


The Likes Of Me And You

by RayShippouUchiha



Series: Love(rs) Under Fire [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - A/B/O, Angst, BAMF Eggsy, Blood, Child Abuse, Death, Food Issues, Grief/Mourning, Harry Hart Lives, Harry as Arthur, Hurt Eggsy, I like to hurt the Egg-roll so beware, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loss of Trust, M/M, Omega Eggsy, Other, Panic Attack, Pining, Protective Eggsy, Rentboy Eggsy, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Slow Burn, So much pining we're basically a forest, Suicidal Thoughts, Trust Issues, Unreliable Narrator Eggsy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:17:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 57,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayShippouUchiha/pseuds/RayShippouUchiha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza Doolittle: There can't be any feeling between the likes of me and the likes of you.</p><p>Or</p><p>Eggsy is an omega and he knows that he'll never be good enough to have what he wants out of Harry Hart.</p><p>He's not that type of omega, not the type that alphas <i>keep<i>.</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He’s not good enough for that kind of life, that kind of love.</i>
  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not only is this my first dip into the Kingsman pool it's also my first A/B/O fic so please be honest but gentle.
> 
> Fanmix: http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

Eggsy’s seven when an alpha in a suit comes and tells his mum that his da,  _his da with his kind eyes and strong hands who promised to teach Eggsy how to do a backflip and swim and shoot and the list went on with promises that Eggsy knows will never be fulfilled now_ , is dead.

He hears his mum break down, hears the pain and the devastation in her voice.  He watches from beneath his lashes as she slaps the stranger’s hand away, tears in her eyes and grief already bowing her slender shoulders.

All Eggsy can do is sit on the floor a few feet away from them, play with the snow globe his da brought him the last time he was home and try to pretend like he’s not paying attention to every word they’re saying.

But he is.

Because Eggsy is smart.  He is,  _was he supposes now in a distant sort of way **he was**_ , his da’s  _bright little egg_  who could read and walk and write and do so many other things so much quicker than the other kids on their block.  So he knows what death is, knows it means that his da,  _all bright smiles_ ,  _wide shoulders and sturdy alpha strength_ , is never coming back.

Eggsy can smell the dark, rich earthy scent of the man  _a powerful alpha some part of him whispers because even at his age he can pick up scents easily and the smell of power clings to the man_  when he crouches down in front of him and asks for his name.  Being the focus of the alpha’s attention makes Eggsy shy in a way he’s never been but he still manages to answer.

The alpha hands Eggsy a medal and a few words of encouragement and then he’s gone.

But Eggsy is smart, he heard what the man told his mum, heard all about the favor and the words.

_Oxfords Not Brogues._

The words don’t mean anything to him no matter how smart he is but he tucks the memory deep down inside of him  _right beside his da’s warm coffee scent, steady hands and ready smile_  because somehow he just  _knows_  he’s going to need them one day.

Eggsy knows that things are going to change, knows that things will never be the same without his da.  But he thinks that despite how much that hurts he’ll be alright because he still has his mum and she still has him.

They’ll take care of each other just like the alpha told him to.

Just like his da always told them to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s also, coincidentally, the last Christmas Eggsy ever has.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things are alright at first.

That’s to say his mum puts on a good show about it but Eggsy sees the truth quickly.

His mum has to take a second job, and Eggsy hears her crying on the phone to Gilly from a few doors down about bills and rent and how ‘ _they didn’t even give me his pension Gill.  My husband’s dead and now I don’t know what I’m going to do.  Eggsy’s growing so fast and he already spends all of his time alone-’_  before she notices him watching and softly shuts her bedroom door.

He does his best to make things easier on her whenever he can.  He keeps the apartment as clean as he can, doesn’t whinge on about toys or sweets or anything like that.  He gets himself up in the morning and then to and from school on his own. He even learns to entertain himself when she’s working and he’s stuck in the flat alone.  He tells her he doesn’t need a babysitter and he knows she only lets him stay alone because the thought of shelling out even a few extra quid for someone to watch him is enough to make the lines around her mouth etch themselves even deeper into her face.  Eggsy  _hates_  that no matter how lonely and dark the flat is at night.

So he learns to take care of himself really.  Eggsy learns to hide the burns and the cuts he gets from trying to cook.  Learns to cry quietly when he has a nightmare but doesn’t want to wake her up.  Learns to be alone and to pretend that it doesn’t really bother him that much.

None of that matters anyhow because he’s going to take care of her just like that alpha told him to.  Just like his da always told him to.

~~~~

He’s eight when Dean comes into the picture.

The man’s rough, all loud alpha posturing and cloying musk that makes Eggsy’s eyes water and his throat itch, but he makes his mum laugh so Eggsy grins and bears it.

Anything that makes her laugh like that, that makes her eyes light up just so, is worth a little bit of irritation in his opinion.

Dean will never be his da, will never replace the man whose memory still lives fresh and vivid inside of Eggsy’s mind, but maybe they can be a family someday anyways, maybe it won’t be so bad.

Besides Dean seems nice in a gruff kind of way.

~~~

Eggsy’s wrong about that.  Wrong about Dean.  Wrong about a lot of things.

Dean isn’t  _nice_.

Not for long.

Not at all Eggsy realizes sometime later.

But it’s too late then, his mum’s married the man, tied herself and Eggsy to this puffed up alpha who goes from someone harmless who makes Eggsy’s throat itch to a snarling thing that kicks and spits at him, that makes his bones hurt when he grabs him too hard whenever Eggsy isn’t quick enough to do something.

Eggsy sleeps in his closet now with his hands clapped tight over his ears to drown out the screams and snarls and everything else.

Eggsy’s never been so frightened but his mum doesn’t do more than press a kiss against his forehead and send him to his room whenever he says something, tells him to ‘ _hush up now babe and go play_ ’.

~~~~

Time plods forward and Eggsy tries his best to keep himself occupied.

His hands play with the medal around his neck constantly.  He rubs the pad of his thumb across the details so often that he’s half scared he’ll wear the thing down.

He thinks about calling, thinks about begging someone to come take him and his mum away from Dean.

 _Oxfords not brogues_ , a voice whispers in his ear and he’s so very tempted.  He’s not sure what kind of favor the alpha was talking about but maybe it would be enough.  Maybe it’d be enough to get rid of Dean.

 _Take care of your mum_ , another distant but still vivid memory sighs and Eggsy feels his spine straighten even as he tucks the medal back beneath his shirt with a sudden surge of resolve.

~~~

The next time Dean raises a hand to his mum Eggsy steps forward and takes the blow instead.

~~~~

It’s the first of many.

~~~~

His one hope is that when he presents it’ll be as an alpha so that maybe then he’ll  _finally_  be strong enough to tear Dean’s throat out with his  _teeth_.

~~~~

Most kids present around thirteen or fourteen when that first massive flux of hormones propels them smoothly into their secondary gender.

Eggsy, a mass of nerves and black and blue bruised skin,  _a vicious mouthed little monster crafted out of too little food, not enough care, and the sunburst pain of Dean’s fists_ , presents when he’s  _eleven_.

~~~~

He isn’t an alpha.

Or a beta.

Like all of Eggsy’s nightmares decided to come true all at once Eggsy is burrowed deep in the back of his closet as the small space fills up with the scent of his own slick and musk.

The way that he’s hot and sweaty and his thighs are sticky forces him to acknowledge the truth.

He’s an omega.

He’s an  _omega_  and his life is officially over.

Well what little bit of one he actually has that is.

~~~~

Eggsy thanks God for small mercies since his first  _true_  heat doesn’t hit him until he’s fourteen.  For a few merciful years he’s able to hide what he is with heavy deodorant and a lot of close contact avoidance.  By then Dean’s beaten him until he’s all raised sharp edges and embedded fear that keeps him simultaneously hostile towards everyone and everything and yet coldly serene at the same time.

He’s determined not to let his nature rule him, determined to be strong and proud and just as fiercely independent as any alpha.

But that determination doesn’t stop the way fear curls through him so quickly when he can’t hide it anymore.  He wakes up one morning smelling like slick and heat and warm, soft omega just ripe for the taking.

He pretends that he doesn’t see the disappointment and the fear in his mum’s eyes even as she presses a blessedly cool hand to his forehead as she crouches down outside his closet where he still sleeps in a tangle of threadbare blankets.

They’d both hoped he would be an alpha like his da, had prayed he’d present like that.  Instead he’s followed in her footsteps and they both know what Dean’ll do now that Eggsy’s an omega.  They both know exactly what he’s capable of and Eggsy being an alpha would have been the only thing to stop what they both know is coming from happening.

Eggsy just curls in on himself further, bites at his lip and the inside of his cheeks until they begin to bleed so that he can stay as quiet as possible.

 _Oxfords Not Brogues._   The words float around his heat dazed mind, a prayer, a chant that’s become a symbol of strength to him just like the medal he never takes off.  It’s proof that he can survive somehow, proof that he’s strong enough to deal with all of this even if there is a possible, magical way out.  Proof that he’s strong enough not to try and run away from his problems.

Still for the first time in years Eggsy considers calling the number just on the hope that it’ll be a way out of what he knows will come.

~~~

Three weeks after his first heat he watches some sleazy looking bloke in a windcheater slip Dean a handful of quid before he walks into Eggsy’s room and shuts the door behind him.

Eggsy fights.

Of course he does.

He screams and snarls, snaps his teeth and his elbows and lashes out as wildly and as violently as he can.

But the man’s an  _alpha_  and while Eggsy’s strong for his age he’s still so fuckin  _young_.

He doesn’t stand a chance.

The alpha gets what he wants and leaves Eggsy bloody and broken in more ways than one when he walks out an hour or two later.

“Get used to it  _Muggsy_.”  Dean sneers down at him from the doorway of his room.  “Bout time you earned your keep boy.  And this,” Dean waves a hand at Eggsy’s bloody and beaten face as he turns to walk away, “this is all the likes of you’s  _ever_  gonna be good for.”

~~~

In the end Eggsy doesn’t call the number on the back of the medal, determined to hold out, to not take the chance of asking for help and either being ignored or outright denied.  Plus he knows, has been told in no uncertain terms by Dean, that if it isn’t him it’ll be his  _mum_  and Eggsy  _can’t_  let that happen.

So instead he breaks into the local chemist one night and grabs as much in the way of condoms and lube as well as synth-scent and suppressants that he can carry.  The suppressants will keep his heats at bay, will keep him clear minded all of the time, will keep him from slipping back into the burning fever of a heat.  Even with all the side effects that clarity, that certainty of clearness, means that, to Eggsy, they’re more than worth almost any risk.

Plus added to that is the fact that the synth-scent will act like camouflage so that he doesn’t announce his omega nature every time he leaves the house.

He knows it won’t matter, not really.  Dean’s already spread the word to most of the block about what he is and how his  _services_  are for hire.  Eggsy has to force himself not to remember exactly  _who_  has shown up in the past few weeks to slip into Eggsy’s room after paying Dean.  If he did he wouldn’t even be able to go to  _school_  without seeing faces that made him sick.

Still it’s a small comfort, being able to wander with his mates without every strange alpha they pass sniffing after him.  He gets enough of that at home.

He learns to grit his teeth and bare it though.  Learns to mimic alpha behaviors when he’s out with his boys, learns to pretend that he is what he’d always hoped he’d be instead of the omega he’d presented as.  He learns to treat his own wounds, even learns how to splint an occasional finger or stitch up a slash mark.  Hospital’s too expensive he knows, just like the doctor he should have been taken to when he presented as an omega so he could get the right vitamins and suppressants prescribed to him had been too expensive.

There are moments when Eggsy hates himself, hates his body and his biology.  Hates what he is on a level that makes him sick.

There are moments when he hates his mum too, hates the way she can sit there and watch what Dean does to him, too frightened or too high to even try and protect him, to try and make it  _stop_.  Eggsy tells himself that he would never do that, would  _never_  stand by and let someone of his be hurt like he’s being hurt.

 _Never_.

He pushes those thoughts away quickly though, doesn’t dare to let them linger in case they become real.

 _Oxfords Not Brogues_  he whispers to himself as he curls down in the closet that’s almost too small for him now.  He’ll take care of his mum even if this is what he has to do in order to do it.

~~~ 

There’s a few bright spots though.

He has his boys who stick with him through it all, Jamal and Ryan there by his side, betas the both of them but as loyal as anything Eggsy could ask for.  He steps between more than one fist for the two of them no matter how they always fret and bitch at him afterwards.  Omega or not Eggsy  _knows_  pain, can handle pain, is used to being hurt in one way or another so he’s got no problem being hurt for them.

There’s also the way a lot of the block pulls together and helps him out on and off.  The beta couple who own the little pastry shop down on the corner always pushes bags and boxes of left over bread and sweets on him with one excuse or another about how ‘ _it’s all practically moldy now anyways so he might as well take it honestly’_.  He knows they’re lying but he’s mostly so grateful for the food that he can’t bring himself to care.

The chemist he robbed that first time is run by a sweet omega man who looks at Eggsy with something like sadness in his eyes.  He pulls Eggsy aside one day and tells him that if he goes to the free clinic and gets a script for a  _proper_  birth control and suppressant to bring back to him he’ll eat the costs and make sure Eggsy gets his pills.

A part of Eggsy hates the pity but he takes it anyways, too smart to let his pride take what little bit of help he might get away from him.

To make things a bit more bearable he picks up and discards hobbies rapidly so that Dean doesn’t have the pleasure of beating the fun out of him every time he enjoys something.

He learns sleight of hand just like every other street rat on his block does only he’s damn good at it.  He learns to drive, learns to fight, and he even learns to cook better than before.  Otherwise he wouldn’t eat most nights if he couldn’t find a way to put something together from the odds and ends in the kitchen at the flat or what he can scrounge up from the bins behind restaurants and diners.

He makes sure not to show how much he loves any one thing in particular because he knows Dean will just take it away from him.

He gets stuck on gymnastics though.  The free beginner’s class he took one summer before he presented segues to his way being paid to the more advanced classes as he gets older.  He’s good at it,  _so damn good_ , and the sheer joy of throwing his body around is easily able to overcome his carefully planned out pattern of cautiously hidden joy.  He manages to keep it up for a long time and in the end it’s worth the bruises Dean gives him on and off for being a  _‘prissy little shit’_.

Besides it’s not like they hurt any worse than the other bruises Dean normally gives him.

All they really do is make that hot, twisted ball of rage and hate in his stomach coil and flare every time he so much as thinks about Dean or about what he’s done to Eggsy, what he’s made Eggsy  _do_.

But then, just as his coach is talking  _Olympics_  and Eggsy thinks he might have found a way out of the hell he lives in, Dean opens his bedroom door the night before the most important meet he’s ever had to not one, but  _two_  alphas.

Eggsy fights.  Fights harder than he’s had the energy to fight for a long time now, but it doesn’t matter.

He misses the meet.

Humiliated and furious his coach tell him not to come back when he shows up at the gym two weeks later and still slightly limping.  Eggsy just grins, says something sharp and smart before he turns on his heel and leaves without looking back.

He cries himself to sleep that night because that loss hurts worse than the way his body still does.

~~~

Eggsy does what he has to in order to survive.

He keeps his grades up, his shoulders squared and his mind set firmly to the future.  It’s the only way to survive his present.

Then, when he makes it out of sixth form to everyone but his own, and Jamal and Ryan's surprise, he knows what he has to do.

His mum doesn’t like it, wails and cries and curses until she’s blue in the face but Eggsy is stubborn.  This is his one chance to get out of the hell he’s in, to get away from Dean and everything he’s been living with for years now.  This is his one chance to maybe being able to get his mum out too someday.

He enlists and he doesn’t look back.

~~~

The Royal Navy is everything Eggsy could have ever hoped for.

He’s fed and clothed properly for the first time in years.  He gets an exam and is finally able to take all of the omegan vitamins and supplements he should have been taking from the start.  He puts on weight and muscle and he feels more alive than he can remember ever feeling.

Eggsy revels in the order, in the structure, in knowing his place, in knowing that all that’s expected of him is his best and the ability to follow orders.  Sure he’s looked down on for being an omega, the alpha and beta recruits sneer and snarl insults just like the instructors do but Eggsy doesn’t care.

He has a bed to sleep in instead of a closet and there’s no money changing hands for who has the right to fuck him whether he likes it or not so he’s happy.

What’s more is the fact that despite all of it Eggsy is good,  _damn good_ , at being a soldier, at being a  _weapon_.  Good enough that eventually the jokes and the insults taper off because no one can ask him who he let knot him in order to get into the program when he has the highest weapon scores or is the most brutal at hand to hand.

He excels in the way he’s only occasionally allowed himself to excel because his success has always been dangerous around Dean.

For the first time in far too long Eggsy feels at ease, at peace.  He thinks that maybe he’s finally found the home he’s been looking for since the night he found out his da was dead.

~~~~~

He’s three months away from the end of his Marine training when the phone call comes.

“I’m pregnant.”  His mum’s voice is low, broken, and there’s so much fear there that for a second Eggsy can’t  _breathe_.  “’ggsy luv I’m _pregnant_.”

 _Oxfords Not Brogues_  Eggsy can’t help but think to himself.  It’s still the one phrase that gives him the courage to do what he knows he needs to do no matter how bad it  _hurts_.

And God does it hurt like burning, like something inside of him has been set alight.  Some precious bit of hope and joy burned to thick, dark ash.

“Be home soon Mum.”  Eggsy promises before he hangs up and turns around so he can go throw away the future he’s always wanted.

~~~

“Told you you’d be back you little shite.”  Dean sneers when Eggsy shows up a week later with a duffle bag and a straight spine.  “This life’s all the likes of you’s deserves.”

Eggsy is, despite himself, almost beginning to believe that Dean might be right.

~~~

Eggsy’s got a little money saved, not enough to get a flat or anything like that, but there’s enough to make sure Michelle gets the prenatal medication she needs.  Eggsy looks for work every day, goes from shop to shop to construction site to construction site.  There’s only odds and ends he can pick up, not enough to eke out a life by far, but it’s better than nothing.

So he focuses on keeping his mum clean and sober, on keeping her fed and scraping together what he can to make sure she goes to her doctor’s appointments to keep the little sprog she’s growing healthy.

He steps in between every blow Dean aims her way just like he used to and bites himself bloody to keep from lashing out with all the new ways he knows to take trash like Dean down with.

As much as he wants Dean dead Eggsy knows that he can’t do anything because for the first time Dean’s actually  _important_.  Michelle _needs_  the alpha pheromones he puts off to keep her stable and calm while she’s pregnant.  The synth-scents she’d need without him are restricted and are too expensive plus there’s no alphas around they could trust to help even her out privately.

Eggsy feels that well of self-hate he’s been nursing for years grow a little deeper because if he was an alpha like his da then he’d be able to keep her safe, be able to give her what she and the babe need.

But he isn’t and he _can’t_.

He’s just an  _omega_  and he can’t change that no matter how much he wishes he could.

~~~~

Daisy is the most beautiful thing Eggsy’s ever seen in his  _life_.  She’s smells soft and sweet and she’s everything he never knew he wanted right up until he lays eyes on her.

It doesn’t matter that she’s part of Dean, that her da’s been the source of pain and torment for Eggsy for years now.  None of that matters.

As far as Eggsy’s concerned the moment Michelle puts her in his arms Daisy is  _his_.

He’ll do  _whatever_  he has to in order to make sure that she doesn’t go through what he has.

~~~~

There’s no crib at the flat.  There’s none of the things he’ll need to take care of his lil’flower.  Just the one can of formula and the small bag of diapers he’d managed to scrap the money together to get his hands on.

Dean won’t be any help Eggsy knows.  He’d been too busy getting pissed at the pub to even be at hospital when she was born.

Eggsy looks around at everything, thinks about the last few quid he has in his pocket, and knows what he has to do.

He takes a shower, pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt left over from before he enlisted and gained a stone of sheer muscle, and heads out into the night.

~~~~

He stumbles back into the flat and then into the bathroom in the early hours of the morning.  He jerks his clothes off violently before he turns the shower as hot as it’ll go.  He scrubs his skin until it’s practically raw and then he collapses down onto the tile.  He stays there until the water runs cold and he can’t feel anything anymore.

Afterwards he towels off, gets dressed, and then shakes himself to sleep inside his closet.

That afternoon he buys Daisy a crib and picks up a few thing he’s read she’ll need.

That night he gets dressed and does it all over again.

~~~~

Eggsy thinks it’ll get easier, going back to being some piece of omega ass willing to sell his hole to any knot with enough cash attached to it.

It doesn’t.

At least before, when Dean had started it all, Eggsy had been able to tell himself that it was  _rape_ , that he didn’t have a choice, that it wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t what  _he_  wanted.  At least then he’d been able to fight back at least a little.

Now, when he gets down on his knees at night so he can make sure Daisy has what she needs the next afternoon, he can’t say any of those things.

Now he can’t pretend that he’s anything but what he is.

Now he can’t pretend that he hasn’t made a  _choice_  to be what he is now.

An omega and a  _whore_.

~~~~~~

If Daisy is anything like him then Eggsy knows he’s got only about ten years to figure out how to get her out of this life before she presents.  Alpha, beta, or omega, it doesn’t matter what she ends up being Eggsy is determined that she’ll never face the kind of life he’s had.

He uses the thought of her as a shield and a sword.  Uses the thought of her sweet scent and bright laugh to protect himself from the sick feeling he gets every time he leaves the house at night.  He uses the way her eyes light up when he picks her up to cut through his doubts and his fear.

She’s worth it.

She’s worth anything,  _everything_ , he has and is.

 _Oxfords Not Brogues_  he thinks as he clutches at the medal he never takes off.   _Protect Mum, protect Daisy._

Sometimes Eggsy can’t help but wish there was someone to protect _him_ as well.

~~~

Daisy’s two when Eggsy comes home and there’s a strange alpha sitting beside Dean on the couch.  Daisy’s asleep in the playpen Eggsy bought her, curled up under a soft blanket that he scented every inch of before he gave it to her.  Michelle’s nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Mum?”  Eggsy can’t help but ask.

“Out Muggsy.”  Dean sneers as he takes another pull from the beer bottle in his hand.  “Go on an’ get now.  Me an’ the guv’s got business.”

There’s the scent of lust in the air, subtle but cloying to Eggsy, and for a second he’s taken aback as his eyes flick between Dean and the strange alpha.

That’s when he notices the way the man’s eyes are on Daisy’s playpen, haven’t left it the entire time Eggsy’s been inside.

Horror roars through him followed quickly by a sort of calm rage that he’s never experienced before.

He’s between the playpen and the couch in a flash, teeth bared and a snarl building in his throat.

“No.”  He snarls, voice barely recognizable through his rage.  “ _No_.”   _Daisy is a baby, a sweet wee thing and he knew Dean was evil but he’d never thought…_

“Oi!”  Dean and the strange alpha are both on their feet then.  “Get out before I make you  _boy_.”

There’s a red film across Eggsy’s eyes then and he’s not sure what exactly happens afterwards.  All he knows is that one minute the strange alpha steps forward, a smirk on his face and cruelty in his eyes, and then next there’s  _screaming_.  The alpha’s on the ground, hands clasped around his torn throat and there is blood in Eggsy’s mouth and then Daisy’s in his arms and he’s  _running_.

 _Omegan protective responses_ , a part of Eggsy’s mind whispers when he finally finds an abandoned car to duck into.   _Omegan instincts are designed to protect their offspring, to protect their children.  Eggsy was serious when he said Daisy was his._

There’s blood cooling on his face and down his throat when he finally calms down enough to realize what had happened and just what he’s done.  Eggsy knows he should feel sick, knows that he should be upset and guilty because  _he’s torn someone’s throat out with his teeth_ , but he isn’t.

Instead he’s almost viciously satisfied, furiously pleased.  He licks the blood off of his teeth and croons at Daisy softly as something wild purrs happily in his chest.

Omegas are nurturers above all else but a lot of people forget the fact that they used to be considered far more dangerous than alpha’s in certain situations.

Eggsy had forgotten that as well, had underestimated his own instincts.   

He won’t make that mistake again.

Not now that he has something so pure and  _precious_  to protect.

He hides in the floorboard of the car with Daisy wrapped in his arms the rest of the night, awake and alert for danger.

~~~~

Dean is tight lipped and leery when he finally goes back to the flat but he doesn’t say anything to Eggsy.  There’s no blood stains surprisingly enough but Eggsy can’t bring himself to care.

Dean probably stripped the alpha of anything of value and dumped the body.  It wouldn’t be the first time and it probably won’t be the last time Dean does something like that.

“You don’t touch ‘er.”  Eggsy tells him quietly, steadily, icy calm wrapped around him like a cloak.  “I’m fair game yeah?  But you don’t touch ‘er and you don’t touch me Mum.”

Dean sneers but he stays silent and Eggsy takes it as the closest thing to an agreement that he’s going to get.

He moves Daisy’s play pen back into his room and starts sleeping on the floor in front of the door instead of the familiar safety of his closet.

~~~~

“Don’ leave her alone wif him Mum.”  Eggsy pleads with Michelle the next morning when Dean’s fucked off to wherever it is he goes.  Michelle’s wide eyed and pale but _listening_.  “Find me or take ‘er wif you but don’t leave ‘er wif ‘im again.  Not  _ever_.”

She nods, something like horror in her eyes beneath the haze of the drugs and the booze, and all Eggsy can do is hope that for once she listens to him.

~~~~

Two days later Dean grabs him by the hair, drags him out of the shower, and beats him until he can barely fucking  _breathe_  and Eggsy knows he’ll be pissing blood for a few weeks.

But the man doesn’t go near Daisy again, barely even looks at her, and that’s enough for Eggsy.

It has to be.

~~~

“You’ll look after the lil’flower if sometin’ happens to me right?”  Eggsy can’t help but ask Jamal and Ryan one night.  There must be something in his eyes or in his voice because the two betas just look at him for a long moment before they both nod silently and then wrap their arms around his shoulders.

Eggsy fights back a flinch before he takes a deep breath and melts into the embrace.  It’s been a long time since anyone but Daisy’s touched him without trying to hurt him.

 _He’s missed it so much_.

~~~~

If there was one thing Eggsy learned in the Royal Navy it’s the fact that everything and everyone has a breaking point.

Eventually, no matter how strong someone is, they finally find that point where everything just becomes too much and they … snap.

 A person can only bend so far before they break and Eggsy has been _bending_ in one way or another for _years_.

He’s at the pub with Jamal and Ryan and his ears are still ringing with the way Daisy had cried for him and he just can’t take it anymore.

He swipes Rottie’s keys without as second thought, takes his car with a smile that’s more snarl than anything, and doesn’t look back except for when he’s driving away from the cops.

It feels good, like flying, like he’s always heard sex is supposed to feel, like Daisy’s hugs and soft blankets and warm food.  It feels like freedom.

But then there’s the damn _fox_  and Eggsy just _can’t_ hit it.  He _can’t_.

All he can do is tell Jamal and Ryan to run and he knows they only do because there’ll be no one left to watch over Daisy for him if all three of them are locked up.

 _Oxfords not Brogues_ he thinks again as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

Hitting the gas and making sure Rottie’s car’ll never be the same if far more satisfying than Eggsy had thought it would be.

~~~

Eighteen months.

It’s too long, way too long.

Eggsy can’t do eighteen months, not and leave Daisy on her own, not and leave his mum.

He finally makes _the_ call.

~~~

Oxfords not Brogues Eggsy tells the woman on the other end of the line.

And just like that Harry Hart saunters into his life for the second time.

Eggsy feels a vague thrill go down his spine when he steps outside the police station and sees the alpha _sleek and neat and so very dangerous smelling_ waiting on him.

~~~

Harry Hart is handsome, powerful, and utterly unimpressed with Eggsy and his halfhearted attempts to defend his life choices.

It hurts to be judged by this man, this alpha.  It hurts to hear the years of pain and torment he’s lived through summed up and trotted out as all the ways his da would be disappointed in him.  Eggsy manages to hold onto his temper by sheer will power alone and even then it’s a close thing.

Of course Dean’s little pissant thugs have to fuck it all up then, coming in all loud and rowdy and ready to hurt him or at least to try.  And if that’s not enough they call Eggsy a _rentboy._   They put his shame right out there in front and ruin any chance he has of at least having Harry leave before he’s totally fucked.

But then Harry explodes into action and before Eggsy can really process what’s happened it’s over.  Dean’s thugs are all laid out, Harry’s clapping him on the shoulder and leaving, and Eggsy is half-hard and ready to drop to his knees for an alpha without any ulterior motive besides the desperate need to give himself away.

Even if he knows that Harry’ll more than likely never take him up on such an offer.

Or, if he did, it’d only be about _fucking_ because Eggsy’s not the kind of omega that alphas want to _keep_.

He’s not good enough for that kind of life, that kind of love.

~~~

He takes Dean’s beating easily enough, just bares his teeth and _denies, denies, denies_.  He’s used to it after all and he’ll bleed out on the kitchen floor before he lets a _word_ about Harry slip from between his teeth.

It’s Harry’s voice around him that throws everything out of wack.  Before he knows it he’s running, parkouring away from his problems like he’s done a million times, only this time he knows it’s _different._

His first stop is Jamal’s and his friend swears to get Ryan and go and get Daisy for him from the beta girl a few doors down from Eggsy’s who watches her when he’s out.  They’ll keep an eye on her no matter what for however long he’s gone.

His second stop is the posh tailors and Harry Hart.

~~~

 _Spies_.  Eggsy blinks in shock.

 _Kingsman_.  Harry Hart tells him with a little half grin.

Eggsy thinks about gymnastics, about the Royal Navy, about everything he’s ever loved and had to give up.  He thinks about his lil’flower, about the ten or so years he has left to get her out of the hell hole they live in.

He thinks about the chance to not have to go down on his knees just to make sure she has enough to eat.

He thinks about Harry Hart, about working with the alpha, being able to be near him.

 _‘Okay’_ , Eggsy thinks, ‘ _Okay’_.

 _‘Let’s do this’_.

_Oxfords not Brogues_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo, opinions? Let me know what you think and if this is even worth putting more effort into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is wow. Just wow. The response to this has been absolutely amazing. You guys have blown me away with the reception this little bit of boredom has gotten me.
> 
> So here's chapter two. It covers the rest of the movie where things go a bit sideways to canon in regards to a few details, nothing major just things more in line with my characterization of Eggsy. We'll be going back into fresh territory in the next chapter.
> 
> Fanmix: http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

The shuttle ride is good, comfortable in a way that Eggsy's never been around an alpha before despite the tension that eats at him.  Even though he wants to go to his knees, even if the most primal omegan part of him is itching to _present,_ he’s still outwardly calm and collected.

He might not be a spy, a _Kingsman_ , but he’s had years of pretending to be something he’s not.  Years of making sure that his facial expressions, his body language, and every other physical cue he can control, read only what he wants them to.  It’s not always easy of course.  That kind of self-containment goes against his very nature, but Eggsy has learned to overcome that to a degree.

Interestingly enough ripping the throat out of that alpha had been worth more than just protecting Daisy in the end.  That surge of protective rage, the taste of blood and fierce victory, had given him a gift.  It had given him something he’d never had before, had unlocked something deep within him that he’d heard of but never seen or felt.

The _omegan lull_.  A period of forced calm and disconnect that some rare omegas experienced during times of high stress.

It was supposed to be something that only happened when an omega’s offspring were threatened and their protective instincts flared; a sort of fallback to keep an omega in control until their alpha arrived.  For Eggsy it was a serene sort of quiet, an almost peaceful state of icy calm that fell over him in the times when he was most compromised.  He’d felt it for the first time when he’d licked blood from his teeth and calmly crooned a lullaby to Daisy in the back of an abandoned car. 

At first it had been all about protecting his lil’flower, just like it was supposed to be, but over time he’d harnessed it, had learned to pull the lull over himself in varies degrees when he needed it the most.  He doesn’t always use it, can’t always choose to call on it.  He likes his emotions for the most part, likes being able to feel something other than the numb kind of calm the lull brings with it.

But when faced with being the reality of being trapped in a shuttle with _Harry Hart_ Eggsy grabs a hold of that calm with everything he has.  Harry is an alpha whose scent, voice, and strength seem like something that has stepped directly out of Eggsy’s wildest and most shameful fantasies.  The ones he's always told himself he can't have, shouldn't even want.  The one's he's never told anyone about because he can't afford that type of weakness, that type of desire.

Added to that was the fact that he’s been off of his meds for two days now almost and Eggsy needs that calm urgently if for no other reason than to keep himself from flooding the compartment with the scent of his slick and desperate arousal.

He sincerely doubts somebody like Harry, someone who seems to embody the word _gentleman,_ will appreciate knowing that some estate trash omega is all slicked up over them.

Or maybe he _would_.  Maybe he’d _like_ it.  Maybe he’d tell Eggsy to get on his _knees_.  Maybe Harry would show him just what an omega like him _deserved_.  Maybe Harry would use some of that alpha strength to show him his _place_.

Honestly Eggsy isn’t sure which scenario terrified him more.

The idea that Harry _wouldn’t_ want him.

Or the thought that he _would_.  Because then Eggsy runs the risk of Harry turning out to be just like ever alpha Eggsy has ever had the misfortune and displeasure of being with. 

~~~

Eggsy follows Harry through the facility and knows in that moment that he’ll follow Harry _anywhere_ as long as the man is willing to lead him.  Even if this doesn’t work out, even if he fails or whatever, Harry will _always_ have his loyalty.  Which is something Eggsy’s given to only a handful of people in his life.

Harry has him completely because Harry is the only person to ever look at Eggsy, to see him in all of his tarnished glory, and then _still_ offer him a chance to do something greater than be a punching bag or a warm hole.

There’s not much Eggsy wouldn’t do to repay that brand of benevolence.  He’s gotten so little of it, has lived a life devoid of the tiny kindnesses for so long that he wants to grab what Harry’s given to him already and hoard it close to him like a dragon.

And, Eggsy knows, that if he isn’t careful, he could easily become as covetous of Harry Hart as a dragon towards its cache of treasures.

~~~

“Your father had the same look on his face.”  Harry muses gently, almost fondly, as Eggsy stares out at the hanger in awe.  “As did I.”

Eggsy thinks about his da, _the faded memory of a warm coffee scent, steady hands and ready smile_ , thinks about how different his life could have been had Lee lived and come home to them.

About how there’d have been no Dean, no beatings, not musk coated alphas baying at his heels for things he didn’t want to give them.  No need to turn around and give it to them anyways.

He thinks about how maybe it’d be his da recommending him for the program instead, about how maybe if Lee had lived Eggsy would feel clean and whole in all the ways that really matter.

The only good thing his life’s given him is Daisy and while the thought of not having her is like a hot knife to the gut Eggsy can’t help but wonder.

But Lee _didn’t_ survive.

And Eggsy isn’t clean or whole in _any_ way.

It _hurts_ but then again Eggsy is used to pain.

~~~

He’s displeased when Harry hands him off to an intimidating but handsome bald bloke who reeks of alpha almost as strongly as Harry, _Galahad_ , does but again Eggsy doesn’t show it.  Instead Eggsy straightens his shoulders, lifts his chin, and gives the two of them his back as he saunters into the room ahead of him.

  _Alphas_ , is his first thought.  They’re standing in a knot in the middle of the room and that wild omegan part of Eggsy that had never quite gone back to sleep after he’d woken it up with the taste of that twisted alpha’s blood can’t help but hiss in displeasure.  There’s so much alpha musk that the room, a barrack really Eggsy realizes as he darts a quick look around, is practically _swimming_ in it.

The way they all lift their heads, nostrils flaring in his direction, as his sweeter, fuller scent wafts into the room probably would have intimidated another omega.  Eggsy just looks at them, pulls a corner of the lull over himself and does his best to keep the snarl he can feel building up in his throat from tumbling forth.

He’s an omega but he won’t be cowed by them, not here, not in this moment, not _ever_.

He pushes down his instinctive urge to flinch when the bald alpha tells them to fall in from far too close behind him and instead takes his place beside a pretty blonde alpha woman whose face is serious but eyes are almost kind.

Eggsy is once again the only omega in a room full of alphas but just like in the Royal Navy he doesn’t care.  He might be an omega but omega doesn’t mean _lesser_.

He won’t let them drive him away.  Not from this.

He _can’t_.

Harry has given him this opportunity, this chance to save himself and Daisy and maybe even Michelle, and Eggsy is going to hold onto it with both hands and his _teeth_ if necessary.

 _Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy.  Protect Mum_.

~~~

‘ _Most dangerous job interview in the world_ ,’ Merlin tells them right before he asks about the body bags on the beds.  His question gives the alpha named Charlie a chance to show off by answering correctly and then being smug like he’s a kid in primary instead of someone attempting to join a secret intelligence agency.

Eggsy, used to the listen and don’t speak aspect of the Royal Navy, keeps his mouth shut.  Even when Merlin tells them that to break confidence is to ensure that they and their next of kin will end up in that body bag.

~~~

Roxy is … _kind_ , as kind as her eyes had seemed, in a way that makes Eggsy vaguely uncomfortable.  She’s affable, obviously witty and charming, and seems altogether too _good_ regardless of the fact that he’s already sure she could kill most of the people in the room despite being so nice.  Still he shakes her hand and hopes quietly to himself that she’ll stay that way.

Charlie, and his _henchmen,_ on the other hand, with their jabs at Eggsy’s name/education/breeding-in-general, are much more in line with what Eggsy is used to dealing with.  He has no problem smarting off at them, no problem ignoring their shite attitudes and condescending smirks.  Although where two tossers named _Rufus_ and _Digby_ of all things come off cackling about _his_ name Eggsy will _never_ know.

Amelia, the other female alpha, seems just as nice as Roxy when she shakes his hand.  Doesn’t sneer and look down her nose at him either.  Instead she just hands him a pen and tells him to ignore the others.

Eggsy thinks he might actually be able to like the two of them if they keep being so nice to him.

Genuinely liking an alpha with no strings attached will be a novel experience for Eggsy if that happens.

~~~

Eggsy stares down at the next of kin line on the body bag.

‘ _Scare_ _tactics’_ , Roxy had said.  ‘ _Classic_ _army_ _technique’_.

Eggsy knows about scare tactics, knows about the army and their techniques.  He’s also smart enough to know that the best scare tactics are the ones that have a chance of actually happening, the ones that have a kernel of truth to them.

Eggsy’s sure that this particular ‘scare tactic’ would become a whole lot less _classic_ and a whole lot more _bloody_ if any of them opened their mouths to the wrong people.

He’s proud of the fact that he’s never snitched on anyone in his entire life.  Living in the estates, where ‘snitches get stitches’ was a rule of thumb, that fact was a point of pride for him and his mates.  Life was different there and keeping secrets, keeping confidences and knowing when to look the other way, was often times its own form of currency.  People lived and died there by their ability to keep their mouths shut.

‘Still …’ Eggsy thinks, ‘better safe than sorry’.  He has all intentions on keeping his mouth shut but he’s also smart enough to plan ahead as far as he can.

With a steady hand Eggsy takes the pen Amelia had given him and presses it against the cardstock.

 _Dean A._ _Baker_ , he writes in careful block letters on the line provided so that there can be no confusion.  He’s half tempted to give the man’s age, weight, and current address as well but he manages to curb the urge.

At least this way if things go pear-shaped then maybe he’ll have the fall back of breaking that confidentiality clause.  If push comes to shove it’ll be a way of making sure that even if he does die at least Dean will go with him.  That would be a step in the right direction when it came to protecting Daisy.

Better safe than sorry was a rule to live by after all and ever little bit counted as far as Eggsy is concerned.

~~~

Lights out rolls around and Eggsy strips down to the provided sleep pants with little thought about what he’s bearing to eight curious alphas and who knows how many cameras.

There’s the sound of a sharp, sucked in breath beside him and Eggsy turns with an eyebrow raised to see Roxy staring at his torso with something like horror in her eyes.

Eggsy remembers in that moment that he’s got more scars that they’re probably accustomed to seeing on an omega their age.  Or at all for that matter.  Most of them are curtesy of Dean or one of the alphas he’d let have Eggsy when he was younger.  A few are from fights Eggsy had stepped into on his own.  And that’s not taking the fresh bruises he knows he’s sporting into account either.  There’s a smattering of them high across his ribs and low on his throat.  By morning he knows there will be an arc of them dancing across his cheek as well thanks to Dean’s open palmed smacks from earlier.

“And here I thought all you omegas lived for was being pretty enough to land an alpha.”  Charlie’s voice is still nasal and pompous but it’s also just a shade off _scandalized_ in a way that makes Eggsy want to smirk despite the situation.  “You really are a freak aren’t you _Eggy?”_  

“Us gutter trash got to keep entertained somehow.”  Eggsy sneers as he finishes getting settled for bed.  “And we tend to not be the delicate type like you highborn are.”

Eggsy clamps down on the urge to reach for his shirt, aware that covering up is the same thing as giving in.  He’s an omega but his body, his life, is _his_.  His scars and bruises are _his_.  He’s survived the pain of each and every one of them, survived and healed.  He _won’t_ be ashamed of them.

Charlie shuts up but from the looks on his and the other guy’s faces Eggsy is sure he hasn’t heard the last of the issue.

The barrack settles down around Eggsy but his thoughts are abuzz with a mixture of elation and fear, of worry and excitement.  A constant see-saw between thoughts of Daisy and Harry.

Sleep is long in coming but it finally takes him down.

~~~

The water is _cold_ and panic eats at Eggsy until he forces it down, gets a tight grip on his emotions and pulls the lull over his senses as best he can.

He waits for the water to rise, bides his time for the turbulence to begin to calm, takes a deep breath at the very last second, and plunges down into the water.

Even before the Royal Navy and the Marines Eggsy could hold his breath for a _long_ time.  There’d been this one alpha who’d been a regular when he was still under Dean’s thumb who’d liked to … well … Eggsy had learned to hold his breath and stay calm underwater _real_ quick.

The door is the obvious solution but Eggsy goes for it anyways while the others seem content to settle in around the toilets.  Eggsy can see the logic in what they’ve done but he’s never been one to sit, settle in, and wait.  Even with Dean beating him black and blue at every given opportunity Eggsy had always met him on his own two feet whenever possible.

This won’t be any different.

The door is locked or held closed by the pressure of the water but the mirror, he remembers, is transparent.  He’d clocked it when he’d been getting ready for bed.  The lighting in the room, the hollow way it had rung when he’d rapped on it lightly, the way it was set _into_ the wall instead of _on_ it, had all been dead giveaways.

 _Oxfords not Brogues_ , Eggsy thinks and goes for it.

He cuts through the water like a knife, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Amelia struggling off to the side.  Without a second thought he makes for her, wraps an arm around her waist, and tugs her forcefully towards the others.  Roxy takes her from him and Eggsy sees her hand the other woman a tube as he darts towards the mirror.

Once there Eggsy plants his feet against the sink and pulls back his fist.  He puts everything he has into the hits in order to make them powerful enough despite the dampener of the water.  All of his rage, all of his pain.  All of his hopes, what few that they are, for himself.  And more importantly, all of his hopes for _Daisy_ which serve as much more powerful motivators.

It shatters on the fifth hit.

~~~

Merlin compliments him, on both his rescue and the mirror, and Eggsy can’t help but feel a small flush of pleasure.  He’s complimented so rarely for anything that isn’t sexual or twisted up in someone else’s perverse fantasies that the feeling is novel.

That warm flush of pleasure grows at the considering and almost pleased looks Roxy and Amelia send him as well.

He resolutely ignores the feel of the other males irritated or outright angry gazes and the way they almost burn when they land on his back.

He isn't here to make friends after all.

 ~~~

Amelia is gone the next morning without even a goodbye.  Merlin makes a speech about teamwork, about the psychological pressures of the job, and then lets the subject go.

Eggsy can’t help but think he’s going to miss her

She’d been nice to him after all.

~~~

 _Puppies_.

 _Puppies_.  Eggsy has to repeat the word twice to get it to sink in.  They’re actually being ordered to pick _puppies_.

A small part of him is almost _happy_.  He’d wanted a dog when he was small, before Dean and everything that had come along with him had made Eggsy shelve that particular desire.  He could only imagine the shit Dean would have done to any dog of Eggsy’s.

The little bulldog looks … sad and just a shade off pathetic in a way that pulls Eggsy right in.  He also fits right into Eggsy’s arms, the shadow of a warm familiar weight he hasn’t felt in days now since the last time he held his Daisy.  His arms ache from the loss of her and the little pug-nosed creature helps a tiny bit.

He realizes he’s settled on a dog when he doesn’t even look at the other larger and more intimidating breeds that the others automatically flock to.

It’s fine though.  Eggsy’ll treat the little guy right, will love him, train him, won’t raise a hand to him just like he’d never raise a hand towards his lil’flower.

Besides it’s a bulldog and that means he’ll get bigger.

~~~

A _pug_.

A _fucking pug_ not a bulldog Roxy tells him as the others laugh.

 _He’s not going to get any bigger_.

But when Eggsy stares down at the thing he can’t bring himself to really mind.  Not with the way the pup's staring up at him all wide-eyed and already adoring.  Almost like how Daisy looks at him.

They’ll make it work somehow.

~~~

Harry stops by to see him and Eggsy is immediately on edge and at attention.  The scent of him, smooth, dark, and dangerous, is just as intoxicating as Eggsy remembers it to be.  His presence is magnetic and Eggsy is hopelessly lured in.

“Eggsy, my dear boy.”  Harry smiles at him, all debonair charm that makes Eggsy’s muscles clench in _want_ at the idea of being Harry’s _anything._   “I see you picked a rather charming companion.”

All Eggsy can do is grin and nod, momentarily struck dumb because _God_ he’s never wanted anyone like this before.

“Merlin tells me you’re doing well so far.”  Harry continues even as he crouches down slightly to let JB sniff his hand.  The fat little pug falls all over himself at the first hint of Harry’s attention and Eggsy can’t help but empathize with the pup because a part of him feels like doing the same thing.  “I hope to hear more good news when I return.”

“You leavin’ Harry?”  Eggsy has to ask.  He feels … restless with the idea that Harry’s going away but he knows it’s more than likely part of the job.

“A quick trip only, nothing lengthy or terribly exciting I’m afraid.”  Harry quirks another smile at him that makes Eggsy want to melt.

“Be careful Harry.”  Eggsy can’t help but caution him and Harry gives him an amused but almost pleased look that he forcefully doesn’t allow himself to read into.  He knows better than to get his hopes up.

“Of course Eggsy.”  Harry reaches out, cups the ball of his shoulder in one wide palmed hand and squeezes it gently.  Eggsy bites the inside of his cheek harshly and doesn’t make a sound as he gives Harry a cheeky but slightly shaky salute and watches him leave.

He’s half hard and slightly desperate afterwards but he pushes it down.  That doesn’t stop him from falling asleep that night with JB tucked against his side and his own hand wrapped around his shoulder like he can keep the warmth of Harry’s touch in place by sheer will power alone.

~~~

“Eggsy.  A word.”  Merlin video calls Eggsy on his terminal in the mansion’s library two days later.

“Need something guv?”  Eggsy’s got JB’s leash tucked around his wrist and is just about to be on the way to the mess for lunch before he goes to the next class they have them attending.  It’s all been light exercise and basic knowledge skills so far.  Eggsy would be almost bored if he wasn’t so entertained by the situation he’s found himself in and intent on what it could all mean for him and for Daisy.

“You need to meet me in the infirmary.”  Merlin looks so serious on the screen that the good cheer Eggsy had been projecting is instantly gone.  “It's Harry.”

Eggsy feels his heart skip a beat.

He goes.

~~~

Eggsy makes his way to the infirmary after dropping JB off at the barracks and is surprised to see Merlin and the man he knows to be Arthur in the room already.  Still his attention is drawn to Harry like a lodestone to iron.

Harry is … _still_.  Still and quiet in a way that Eggsy has never seen before.  He doesn’t like it.  Doesn’t like seeing Harry rumpled and unkempt like this, because of this.

It’s _unsettling_.

“Concentrate on your training.”  Merlin tells him.  “Make Harry proud.”

Eggsy swears that he will.

~~~

Arthur is a right old cunt Eggsy decides later after his brief instance of meeting the illustrious head of Kingsman.  The man hadn’t said anything to him but Eggsy had recognized the disdain in his eyes for what it was.  He’s seen it enough in his life to recognize it.

~~~

Eggsy goes back to the infirmary that night and Merlin meets him at the door with a long look and furrowed brows.  Whatever he sees must be enough for him though because Merlin leaves him there, alone in the room with Harry.  Eggsy gives himself a few moments before he reaches out and hesitantly takes Harry’s hand.

“Wake up Harry.”  Eggsy whispers the words like secret, like a _prayer_.  “Please wake up.”

At his feet JB whines in agreement. 

~~~

Eggsy resolves to throw himself harder into his training so he can make Harry proud like he said he would.  It’s been so long since anyone was proud of him and he finds that he craves Harry’s approval, wants it greedily, desperately.  In the process he discovers that making it work with the pup consists of Eggsy tucking JB into his vest on every run while the others snicker.

Eggsy just sighs, chucks JB under the chin, and decides that the dog’s extra weight just means he’ll be in even better shape than he already is that much faster.  Plus the warm weight of him helps to curb that sharp, bitter ache he has for Daisy just a little bit.

It doesn’t erase the sight of Harry, bruised and bandaged, in that hospital bed from his mind though.

~~~

He goes to see Harry every day between lessons and tests and during his down time.  He straightens the sheet and light blanket around Harry's waist, indulges his urge to lay hands on him by straightening the lapels of Harry’s red robe and even once daring to push a stray hair back into place.

At first Eggsy just sits there in silence and stares at him.

Eventually he begins to talk.

He tells Harry about his day, about what they did, about how much he likes or hates it.  He tells him about the other recruits, Roxy in particular who he’s quickly growing fond of.  He’s careful not to mention anything too sensitive because he’s smart enough to be aware of the camera in the corner recording his every word.

It’s not the best situation in the world as he’d much rather have an actual two-way conversation with Harry but for the moment it’s all he has.

Eggsy is used to making due by now.

~~~

Eggsy is informed that since he’s reached this far in the selection process he gets one supervised phone call a week to a number of his choice.

He jumps at the opportunity with an eagerness that gets him raised eyebrows from Merlin but Eggsy doesn’t care.

Eggsy calls Jamal because he knows he’ll be up thanks to the swing shifts he works.  Sure enough Jamal picks up on the second ring.

“Oi bruv, how’s the lil’flower?”  Eggsy keeps his voice calm, even keeled and almost playful.  He very carefully doesn’t give into the raging emotions, the anxious desire to demand answers.

“Eggsy!”  Jamal sounds simultaneously surprised and relieved.  “We thought you was _dead_ mate.  Dean’s been on a rage around the block and your mum’s goin’ mental, screaming on about you and the flower.  Came round and bout beat my door down wanting her back.”

“ _Jamal_.”  Eggsy feels icy creep up on his heart as dread floods his system and it sharpens his voice despite his best attempts not to let it.  He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Daisy is back with Dean without him there to protect her.  He suspects it would be something stupid by most people’s definitions.  Something as stupid as leaving the Marines or ripping a man’s throat out with his teeth.  It didn’t matter to Eggsy though, he’d do either again in a heartbeat for her.  He sees Merlin perk up out of the corner of his eye but ignores the man.  “ _Where is she_?”

“She’s fine Eggsy, kipping over at Ryan’s flat till I get off my shift.  I set her straight and Michelle fucked off to the pub a few days ago and hasn’t been back since she knows you sent us for your girl.”  Jamal immediately soothes him, able to read the change in his tone clearly.  “She’s safe Eggsy.  Safe but missing you bruv.”

Eggsy lets relief wash over him at the news.  Jamal and Ryan know how Eggsy feels about Daisy, know what he’s done for her over the years.  They don’t judge him for it, too accustomed to the life style, to that familiar flavor of desperation, to think less of him.  It’s one of the reasons Eggsy trust them with Daisy.  He knows they’ll look after her if anything happens to him and he loves them both fiercely for that.

“Just,” Eggsy has to swallow hard to get the words out.  “Just tell ‘er I love ‘er.  Tell ‘er I’ll be home.  Not sure when, but I’ll be home.  Just tell ‘er that and keep ‘er safe for me.  Can you do that?”

“Course bruv.”  Jamal agrees, as simple as that.  “You just get your arse back here soon you hear?  Not the same without your pretty face to brighten the day.”

Eggsy laughs like he knows Jamal wanted him to and the call comes to an end naturally after that.  Eggsy misses Daisy but a part of him is at peace because Jamal and Ryan will make sure she stays safe for as long as they possibly can. 

“Problems at home Eggsy?”  Merlin asks, voice soft but bland, like he couldn’t care either way despite the small spark of interest Eggsy can see in his eyes.

Eggsy just laughs, unsure of what he finds more amusing, the idea that _problems_ covers the extent of the shit-show going on back at the estates, or the idea that the place was ever really a _home_ to him.

Either way he doesn’t answer.

~~~

Eggsy wakes, soaking wet and in a panic, to Charlie and the other’s laughter.  It’s only Roxy’s hand on his chest and the knowledge that attacking another recruit outside of physical training will get him automatically expelled from the program that stays his hand.

Instead he hisses, bares his teeth in a vicious warning snarl, and watches the way they all recoil with satisfaction.  He scoops up JB and takes his frightened, shivering pup to a free bed to get them both warm and dry.

He spends the rest of the night staring at Charlie from across the room, eyes narrowed and lip curled.

Charlie barely sleeps to Eggsy’s satisfaction and unlike Eggsy he’s totally unused to being so exhausted so he’s shit the next day in training.

~~~

“ _Who_ are you fucking?”  Charlie spits at him after Eggsy pulls another high score on an actual written test.  “You have to be fucking _someone_ to get scores like that.  Hell you probably fucked your way through primary and secondary.  What did you do?  Let your headmaster knot you to get through?”

Eggsy just grits his teeth and keeps his silence.  It isn’t altogether untrue after all.  He _had_ fucked his secondary school headmaster.  Or more accurately the alpha had fucked him.  Eggsy hadn’t had too much of a choice about it to be honest.

~~~

The recruits are whittled down to six and _Harry wakes up_.  Eggsy can’t contain the burst of warmth when the first thing the man does is send for _him_.

There’s quips about knocking and Harry wanting him to learn a few things.  Then there’s exploding heads, implants, and _Richmond Valentine_.  Eggsy can barely contain his glee at being useful to Harry, at having information for him and for Merlin that might actually help.

He pushes down the worry he feels when Harry immediately launches himself back into the game.  It’s one of the things he admires the most about the man after all, that alpha sureness and the way he oozes competence.

~~~

After that elimination the training steps up.  The six of them are put into more physical and intense activities.

Eggsy proves himself as a sniper despite Charlie’s half-hearted spotter tendencies and gets a brief reprieve from the judgement and sneering of the rest of the recruits as they all attempt to readjust to an active schedule.

Eggsy takes to it instantly, eager to move after so long being what he considers idle.

~~~

Then the hand to hand combat sessions start in earnest and all hopes of being left alone disappear.  The alphas, with the exception of Roxy, have it out for him.  But, to Eggsy’s distinct and vicious pleasure, Charlie and the other three vastly underestimate him and Roxy both.

If there’s two things Eggsy’s good at after all it’s taking and giving a beating.  Dean had served him well on the first and the estates and the Royal Navy had served him well on the second.

“You can take a great deal of punishment can’t you kid?”  One of the trainers, a surprisingly cheerful beta, says with a hint of admiration in his eyes after Eggsy takes a particularly hard hit that barely makes him flinch.

Eggsy just grins, blood on his teeth, as he curls the pain down and away and tucks it in alongside all of the rest.

“Again”, Eggsy says as he gets back into his ready stance.

And he doesn’t stop until there’s no one left willing to fight with him.

~~~

Time passes.

Training intensifies.

JB grows.

Harry takes him to the shooting range, puts his hands on him to show him how to properly dual weild pistols and the umbrella.

Harry leans up against the wall and watches Eggsy's hand to hand classes with a small smile on his face and something like warmth in his eyes.

Harry clasps Eggsy on the shoulder, steals JB's leash from him, and generally inserts himself into Eggsy's day at every given opportunity he can find.

Eggsy is lost and ecstatic just to be near him, to be able to move around with Harry, to talk with him, to laugh with him.  To occasionally feel Harry's hands on his shoulders when he corrects his stance in the new hand-to-hand routine.

It's almost overwhelming how much he wants Harry and each little touch, each little interaction makes the ache that much worse.

It's an almost sweet kind of pain, the longing Eggsy feels for Harry.  It hurts in the best kind of way, in a way Eggsy's never felt before.

He thinks it's the only kind of pain he's felt in his life that doesn't make him want to run away.

Instead Eggsy wants so desperately to run _to Harry._

Even if he knows Harry more than likely doesn't care either way.

~~~

Eggsy doesn’t like to think about the parachute test.

Doesn’t like to think about the way he embarrasses himself in front of Merlin at the end when he goes off about being expendable.  It’s a feeling he’s had his whole life and it’s only his utter disappointment at the idea that Merlin sees him that way that makes him loose his cool.

Most of all he doesn’t like to think of the way falling without a parachute had felt so terrifying and almost right.  How, even as he scrambled for survival, for a moment there he’d thought about hitting the ground, about checking out permanently, and the idea hadn’t seemed as unappealing as it should have.

Eggsy doesn’t like to think about that at all.

~~~

But then there are three of them left and things are stepped up even further.

‘Biblically.’ Merlin had said and Eggsy can’t help but feel as if he’s taken a step backwards somehow before he pushes the thought away.  If Kingsman needs him to prove he can be a whore then that’s one test Eggsy _knows_ he’ll pass.

Plus Eggsy has been a whore long enough to know when a mark it worth it or not. And this girl, a pretty little beta, _is_ worth it.  Kingsman is worth it.  _Daisy_ is worth it.  Not disappointing _Harry_ is worth it.

So it won’t be a problem although the thought of fucking her on command makes his stomach turn.

_Oxfords not Brogues._

~~~

The champagne _is_ rank but by the time Eggsy recognizes the flavor it’s already too late.

~~~

Kingsman, Harry, Daisy.  The three names circle their way through Eggsy’s head as the train barrels down on him.

And when the arsehole with the knife asks him if the first two are worth dying for all Eggsy can do is squeeze his eyes shut and scream _yes_ as all thoughts of backup plans fly out of his head.

Because they are worth dying for.

Kingsman, Harry, and Daisy.  All three of them have given Eggsy things he’s never had before, never dreamed he could have, and he knows that he’ll kill or die for either and all of them as many times as it takes.  As many times as he is able.

It's the least he can do.

~~~

Harry is so _proud_ of him, so smug with his success.  Shaking with adrenaline all Eggsy wants to do is go to his knees.  Wants to take Harry’s cock into his mouth right there in the tunnel and sooth/reward himself with the taste and scent of him.

His knees are almost bent when Harry snaps him out of it by asking if he wants to watch Charlie’s test.

Eggsy is grateful for the distraction.  Rejection, or a shallow acceptance from Harry at this point might just be enough to _break_ him where so many others have failed.

~~~

Roxy passes and Charlie _crumples_ under the pressure of the test.

The feeling in Eggsy’s chest is almost like vindication.

~~~

Twenty-four hours with Harry.

Twenty-four whole hours with just the two of them.

Eggsy’s hands _shake_ at the thought alone, at what he could do with twenty-four hours.

With how much he could let Harry do to him.

~~~

Eggsy is in awe of Harry’s steady confidence and his slight smirk as he tells him about the headlines on the papers.

The idea is _fascinating_.   Like a secret language that only a few are privy to.

He knows that if he makes it into Kingsman, if he becomes Lancelot, then he’ll do this too.  He will build a shrine of his own with all of his important dates immortalized in ink and paper.  Daisy’s birthday and the day he met Harry for a second time will be the first two to go up.  All of the things he holds dear hidden right out in plain sight, a story only he and maybe Harry would be able to read.

The lessons on being gentleman are a little bit harder for Eggsy.  He’s always wrapped his abrasiveness, that estate upbringing that so many love to point out to him, around himself like a cloak.  Like _armor_.  He’d learned a long time ago that people would judge him for that just as fast as they’d judge him for being an omega.  He’d also decided that because of that none of those people deserved his respect or his true self.

Then Harry tells him it’s not about how he talks but how he acts, how he behaves and carries himself.  He tells him it’s his attitude and outlook over how he dresses and how well he annunciates.  Harry tells him it’s something he can _learn_ and he even _sounds_ like he believes that Eggsy can do it.

Eggsy likes that, likes the idea that intention and action is more important than diction.

But for Harry … for Harry Eggsy _wants_ to try, wants to be as proper and posh as he can be just to prove that he can.  Just so he can prove that he’s an equal, or at least that he could be one day.  That he wouldn’t embarrass Harry or anything of that nature.

There are a lot of things that Eggsy wants to prove to Harry.

~~~

They have dinner and it’s the most intimate meal of Eggsy’s life.

Harry orders take-away from some posh dining service that costs more than Eggsy’s sure he used to spend on food for himself in a _month_.

The fare is, in a word, _divine_.  Easily the best thing Eggsy has ever eaten in his _life_.  Yet despite that it’s the way that Harry leans close to him as he talks, the way he reaches over and adjusts Eggsy’s grip on his silverware, or settles his napkin on his lap, or the one time he settles a warm, strong hand on the back of Eggsy’s neck, that sticks out far more clearly in Eggsy’s mind.

Once or twice Eggsy is sure he catches a glimmer of something dark in Harry’s eyes when he bends to another of Harry's suggestions/orders.  Something that looks a lot like _want_.  Sometimes he swears he catches Harry preening, chest puffing up a bit underneath his praise, the instinctive reaction of an alpha in front of an omega they’re trying to impress.

But that _can’t_ be, Eggsy knows that.  Because Harry doesn’t care about impressing him, doesn’t care if Eggsy sees him as an ideal alpha or not.  Harry’s just being kind, just being his _mentor._   He doesn’t _want_ Eggsy, not for anything that would require Eggsy to be suitably impressed for.

No one ever has and no matter how much Eggsy might wish it he knows that isn’t going to change.

Especially not with Harry Hart.

Yet the way Harry walks him to the door of the guest room that night, the way he reaches out to grab him gently by the chin and then stands there for a moment just looking at him makes Eggsy rethink that for a split second.  For just a moment he thinks Harry’s going to kiss him and in that instance Eggsy knows true _want_ , true _desire_ that goes so far beyond the sexual.

Because he wants Harry’s kiss, wants his hands and his mouth and his cock, but he also wants the gentleness that sits side by side with that ruthlessness of Harry’s that Eggsy is so fond of.  He wants that dark spark in Harry’s eyes and a million nights just like this one, filled with conversation and food and warmth.

He wants to introduce Harry to his Daisy, wants to see what he’ll make of his lil’flower, wants to see if Harry will treat her like the princess Eggsy knows she is.

Eggsy wants so, so much.

And then Harry breaks away, lets Eggsy go, and takes a deliberate step back and away.

“Rest.”  Harry tells him gently.  “We still have quite a few things to go over tomorrow.”

Eggsy tries to pretend like he’s not disappointed but he’s never been good at lying to himself.

~~~

Harry takes him back to the tailor shop and walks him through much in the way of suits and the pros of them being bespoke.

The quip about cherries makes Eggsy shift in both arousal and shame because there hasn’t been anything _cherry_ about him for far longer than he likes to admit.

Still the small armory is like heaven and Eggsy can’t help but be a bit light-fingered just to see if Harry will notice.  A test of sorts that he can’t help but try.

He’s delighted when Harry notices because Eggsy’d expected nothing less from him.

~~~

Seeing Valentine inside the tailor’s feels almost like a violation, like a betrayal of sorts because he’d been given twenty-four hours with Harry and the world and reality is already trying to ruin it.

Eggsy’s eyes catch and hold those of the beautiful but cold looking omega woman who hovers behind Valentine while Harry and the man trade barely concealed barbs.

There is something about her that seems … almost familiar to Eggsy but he just can’t place it before the moment is over.

~~~

It hurts when Harry pawns him off again but Eggsy understands that there are bigger issues to be taken care of, bigger things at stake at the moment.

Still he couldn’t help but think wistfully of what it would have been like to have Harry there to personally help him with his fitting session.  Harry, with all of his experience and manners, wouldn’t say anything about his scars.  Harry’s hands would have been sure and steady, would have moved Eggsy around like a doll, and would have guided him through the entire process easily.

Eggsy thinks that Harry might be the only alpha he’d ever let guide him like that, might be the only alpha he’d ever willingly submit to.

The thought is equal parts terrifying and _glorious_.

~~~

Eggsy isn’t sure what to think when Arthur calls him into a sitting room the next afternoon.  But the sight of the plastic sheeting on the floor immediately raises alarm bells.

They exchange almost pleasant conversation revolving around JB’s name and such.  Arthur pulling a gun takes him by surprise but Eggsy immediately bows up, ready to fight if he can, ready to do whatever necessary to get back to Daisy, to Harry.

And then Arthur hands him the gun and tells him to _shoot_ JB.

Eggsy’s no fool.  He’s paid attention to all of the training he’s ever gotten, both in Kingsman and before.  He knows what a loaded gun feels like, knows the slight weight difference in a gun carrying a full load and one sporting blanks.

Eggsy thinks about gymnastics, about the Royal Navy, about everything he’s ever loved and had to give up.  He thinks about his lil’flower, about the ten or so years he has left to get her out of the hell hole they live in.

He thinks about the chance to not have to go down on his knees just to make sure she has enough to eat.

He thinks about the friend he’s found in Roxy and sometimes in Merlin.  He thinks about Harry Hart, about working with the alpha, being able to be near him, about making him proud.

‘ _Okay_.’  Eggsy thinks.  ‘ _Okay_.’

_Oxfords not Brogues._

And then he can’t pull the trigger, can’t bring himself to shoot JB.  Even if the bullets _are_ blank, from such a close range he’d still likely kill the pup.  JB is _small_ and the impact from even a blank would likely crack his skull.

In that moment he turns the gun on Arthur, on this jumped up old bastard who so obviously despises him for something as simple as his pedigree and his address growing up.  Eggsy thinks about shooting him instead, about the sound the impact would make as the bullet hit _his_ skull and fractured it.

He thinks about it and then he thinks about Harry again and he _can’t_.  He can’t betray Harry like that, not when he’s already betraying him by not shooting JB.

In the distance he hears another gun shot and knows that Roxy has taken the step he can’t.

Eggsy hands Arthur the gun and leaves.

‘ _Maybe_ ,’ Eggsy can’t help but think as he scoops JB up and heads outside where he steals a car, ‘ _maybe Dean was right all along.  Maybe that sort of life, the sort of life I've tried so hard to escape, is all I’ll ever be good for after all_.’

~~~

His first stop is Ryan’s where Daisy is asleep in the playpen his mates obviously took from his flat.  It does him good to see her again after so long with only unsatisfying phone calls once a week.  He picks her up carefully and rubs his cheek gently against the soft down of her hair as he scents her as thoroughly as he can without waking her up before he settles her back down.  Then he re-scents that soft blanket of hers that she’s never without.

“You back bruv?”  Ryan asks him quietly and Eggsy can see the curiosity in his eyes as he takes in the jumpsuit he’s wearing and the pug at his ankles.  But Ryan doesn’t ask and Eggsy doesn’t volunteer the information.

“Almost.  Got one thing left to do.”  Eggsy stands there for a long moment just staring at Daisy, drinking her in, using her to fight away the crushing sense of failure and self-hate that is trying to well up inside of him.

It sounds suspiciously like Dean’s voice telling him that he’s an _omega_ , not an alpha, and he should have known he’d choke when it was really important.

~~~

Eggsy leaves Daisy behind and goes back to his flat with JB in tow.

It feels strange to be back in his regular clothes and back in his room instead of wearing the jumpsuit and sitting in the barracks.  He takes a moment to look in the mirror and Eggsy realizes that he kind of hates what he sees there, hates what he _is_ _now_ that he knows what he c _ould have been_.

He’s fucked up again, has cost himself and Daisy Kingsman and all of the perks and security it could bring so now Eggsy knows what he has to do.  Knows that he only has one option open to him.  Only one move left to use.

Dean has to _die_.

~~~

Dean sends his dogs away and Eggsy prepares himself.  Alone, with no witnesses, it’ll be easy enough to kill Dean.  The car he stole will make it even easier to get rid of the body.

Just because Eggsy didn’t make the cut to be Lancelot doesn’t mean he's automatically forgot everything they taught him.

Now, to get rid of Dean, to help secure Daisy a brighter future, Eggsy is willing to use all of the things he’s learned to the best of his advantage.

Apparently Harry Hart has other ideas if the way he hijacks the car remotely and steers Eggsy to his house is anything to go by.

~~~

Harry is coldly furious and almost bitterly disappointed in him.  He throws his stuffed dog’s existence into Eggsy’s face like a curse and all of that hurts almost more than any beating Eggsy has ever endured.

He doesn’t know how to tell Harry what had happened, doesn’t know how to tell him how Arthur had set him up to fail and had obviously been happy about it.  It doesn’t really matter though because Harry doesn’t seemed inclined to give him the chance to _try_.

They spit and hiss at each other for a moment, words flying back and forth, and then Harry tells Eggsy that _everything_ he did he did to repay his _debt_ to Eggsy's _father_ , to Lee Unwin, and Eggsy just … _freezes_.

Eggsy is _devastated_ despite himself.  He’d known from the beginning that an alpha like Harry would never _really_ want him.  Had known that there could be nothing between the likes of him and the likes of Harry.

He'd known all of that and yet a part of him had still hoped ...

But it’s the first time he’s been an _obligation_ instead of just something to _fuck_ , some whorish omega good enough to knot but not to mate, not to bond with.

He almost would have preferred to be a _fuck_ instead because at least he knew how to deal with that.  At least he was used to that kind of disappointment, that kind of pain.  At least then he would have had the chance to be _close_ to Harry in some way.  Instead he’s an _obligation_ , overshadowed by a dead man and one brave deed.

Harry says they’ll clear everything up when he gets back and although Eggsy isn’t sure what Harry means he isn’t going to get his hopes up either.

Eggsy watches Harry leave with an aching heart.

~~~

Once Harry is gone Eggsy shuts himself up in the bathroom and cries like he hasn’t cried in longer than he can remember.

 _Oxfords not Brogues_ Eggsy chants to himself.

It doesn’t help.

Harry was the one that gave him that phrase in the first place so when it's a disappointed Harry that has Eggsy in a state of almost panic they don't seem to work.

Instead he used Harry’s phone and calls Jamal so he can listen to Daisy babble at him for ten minutes as he slowly gets his breathing back under control.

~~~

Eggsy falls asleep for a few hours on the floor of Harry’s office, comforted by the embedded scent of the alpha and the knowledge that he is safe and secure in Harry’s home.

He’s awake and restless by the time Harry lands in Kentucky and makes his way to the church.

Eggsy has Harry’s computer, obviously left out in some sort of invitation to peek that Eggsy his unable to ignore.  To his surprise the fingerprint scanner accepts his print when he tries it on a whim and before he knows it he’s been welcomed into Harry’s home system without any other issues.

It’s enough to have hope attempt to well back up inside of him again because obviously Harry still wants him around in some capacity if he’s programmed Eggsy into his supposedly uncrackable system.

Within seconds Eggsy has a feed that links directly to Harry’s glasses.  He can see and hear what Harry can, can even hear Merlin as well as he barks orders to Harry, _Galahad_ , in a slightly sardonic tone.

Watching through the glasses is a unique perspective.  They provide an exclusive sort of insight into the way Harry sees the world and that is something so profound that Eggsy is almost shamefully excited by the chance.  He gets to see the way Harry cases a room, the types of people who draw his eyes first and for how long.  All of the things that catch his interest are readily apparent from the way his gaze lingers on them.

The sermon being given is tasteless and a shade off deranged but it’s nothing Eggsy hasn’t heard before.  People don’t change it seems, no matter the country or the religion bigots are bigots and Eggsy has no interest in wasting more of his time on them than he has to.  Instead he pays attention to the steady rhythm of Harry’s breathing and the way the visual in the glasses wavers just a bit every time he shifts.

He’s more than a bit nervous over the idea of Harry being alone in that church.  He knows it’s the sort of thing Kingsman do, knows that Harry is the best of the best and doesn’t need protecting, but this feels different somehow.  This is obviously so much larger than anything Eggsy could have dreamed of, so much bigger and broader.  Whatever it is Valentine has in place that requires the type of hardware he’s been wiring into people has to be massive on a scale that Eggsy is barely capable of rationalizing.

In that moment regret for how he’s failed to become a Kingsman truly hits him.  Not regret for the loss of what he could have done for Daisy, not regret for the loss of Harry’s pride in him.  For once Eggsy is assaulted by regret on his own behalf, regret for the loss he has suffered.

Because if he’d have shot JB then maybe he would have been on that plane with Harry.  Maybe he’d be beside him even now in that church or lying in wait somewhere as backup or something of that nature.  Eggsy would have jumped on the chance to work a mission with Harry, to be of direct use to the man.

But he didn’t shoot JB, didn’t betray his pups trust in him with pain, didn’t break the promise he’d made to himself not to lift a hand towards the pug.  Didn’t take that first step in going down the road that ended in Eggsy becoming the one thing he despised above all else.  Someone willing to hurt an innocent for their own gain.  Someone like Dean and all of his cronies.

Not, of course, that he thinks _Roxy_ is like that.  They’re different people after all and different people have different gateways to that kind of cruelty.  For Roxy the dog was just that, a _dog_.  But for Eggsy JB was a lot more than a dog, he was a _symbol_.

So he regrets not getting his chance to be beside Harry but he can’t regret not hurting JB.

He won’t regret that, not ever.  Even if everyone else thinks he’s an idiot for it.

 _Fuck that_.  Fuck Arthur and his disdain.  Fuck a test that told them to turn on their partners, their companions.  Fuck a test that told them to hurt an innocent who depended on them, loved them unconditionally, just to see if they would if ordered to do so.  Fuck an organization that preached teamwork and then told them to turn on one of their own unprovoked.

Eggsy doesn’t need that.  Especially not if Harry was telling the truth and wasn’t going to brush him aside now that he’s cocked it all up.  Somehow Eggsy knows that all he really needs is Harry, that with Harry in his life he and Daisy both will be alright somehow. 

“ _I’m a Catholic whore …_ ” Harry’s voice, flat and cutting like a blade slices across Eggsy’s distraction.  He snaps back into reality just in time to hear Harry verbally flay a woman in a way that makes Eggsy crack a small smile despite himself.

Harry continues on to leave but before Eggsy can find the time to be relieved for even a second Harry pauses.  The old woman from the pew has followed him and Eggsy feels a thick ball of dread and sick begin to churn in his stomach when Harry actually stops.

“Leave Harry.”  Eggsy can’t help but plead with the screen of the tablet.  “Just leave.”

But Harry doesn’t.

It all happens so fast after that.  Harry’s gun is up, the woman is down, and pandemonium breaks loose across the entirety of the church. 

“Holy _fuck_.”  Eggsy half-yells because like a flip has been switched they all turn on each other and in the midst of the sea of chaos is _Harry_.

Harry who, instead of _leaving,_ rushes _into_ the fray.

Eggsy is stunned but riveted to the screen.  There is blood and death and gore but even with a first person view he can tell that Harry moves like _music_.  He flows through the crowd like a _dance_ , like the tide against the shore; taking one here, one there, cutting a wide swath through the crowd around him.

Eggsy can hear Merlin _screaming_ at Harry over the comms but there’s no response.

That more than anything _frightens_ him.

There are a few moments where Eggsy flinches, clenches his eyes closed and turns from the screen.  It’s less about the gore, less about the death and more about the way Harry’s hands are stained red with blood, with how Eggsy can tell that something is _wrong_.

Harry’s hands are _shaking_.  His movements are rhythmic, almost choreographed, and he doesn’t discriminate with who he kills, but every time his hands flash into frame Eggsy can see the way they _shake_.

And then it’s over.

The church is quiet, the parishioners all dead, and the only sound is the heavy rasp of Harry’s breathing.  Eggsy is … quietly horrified in a way that he has a hard time describing.

Finally Harry leaves but he takes the front door instead of one of the side exits and when he pushes it open there is Valentine.

Eggsy feels real fear claw at his throat and his hands grip the edges of the screen so hard he can feel the plastic creak in his grasp.

“ _I killed all those people._ ”  Harry rasps out.  “ _I wanted to_.”

Valentine gives the game away easily enough in so few words despite his attitude towards big reveals.  Eggsy listens to him taunt Harry about old movies and the villain’s monologue.

“ _Well this ain’t that kind of movie_.”  Valentine sneers.

The gun comes up _so fast_.  There’s a burst of sound, Harry’s feed goes dark, and Eggsy _knows_.

His scream is primal, filled with all of the pain and denial he can muster.  It rips itself out of him, leaves his throat raw and ruined as spots swim before his eyes.

“ _No_.”  Eggsy screams because the unthinkable has happened.

Harry is _dead_.

~~~

For a long moment all he can do is stare around Harry’s office.  He feels so … _lost_.  Looking at the pages on the walls it seems so ridiculous to even consider the idea that Harry is … _gone_. 

There’s no way the man, the alpha, who did so many wondrous things could be taken out like that, by some weak-stomached megalomaniac with a distaste for blood.

It can’t be true.  _It can’t be_.

There’s no way Harry is dead.  Not the Harry who’d gotten him out of jail, who’d vouched for him.  Not the Harry who’d been so kind to him.  Who’d taught him so much, who’d pushed him forward when no one else ever had.  Not the Harry who’d still wanted to keep him around even after Eggsy had managed to fuck up so horribly.

Not the Harry that Eggsy … that Eggsy … _oh_.

‘ _Oh’_ , Eggsy thinks to himself, ‘ _oh’_.

‘ _So this is what it feels like to be in love_.’

~~~

The liquor burns when it goes down but Eggsy doesn’t care.  He’s ice inside anyways, frozen to the very core of himself, heart buried beneath layers of thick cold.

He sits down at the head of the table because it was the last place Harry had sat and all he can hear is the alpha’s voice in his head.

‘ _I see a young man with potential who wants to do something good with his life_.’  That’s what Harry had said to him and those simple words had meant so much to Eggsy, still do.

 The next step is easier than it should be.

Eggsy reaches for the lull, embraces it in a way he hasn’t seen that first night with Daisy in his arms.  He pulls it over himself in its entirety and it would be a relief to feel so calm and even keeled if Eggsy could feel anything else beyond that.

Besides he knows what's waiting for him when the lull finally slips away.  Grief, sadness, anger.  Eggsy's actually not looking forward to it. 

~~~

Eggsy is _calm_ when he arrives at the shop and strides his way into the room where Arthur waits.

Arthur goes on about the proper authorities, about Galahad’s legacy and how he’d done his job.

But, when he turns to pour the brandy, Eggsy sees the _scar_.

Everything inside of Eggsy was still beneath the lull until that moment.  The scar changes _everything_ , the knowledge of what Arthur has done changes _everything_.  Now, beneath the calm and serenity, there is a low simmering rage in Eggsy that’s so potent it has looped back around to calm again.

He calls Arthur’s attention to the portraits behind him and then switches the glasses.

“To Galahad.”  Eggsy toasts as he downs his brandy, eyes sharp on the way Arthur drinks his own.  There’s something _alive_ beneath his _skin_ , beneath the forced calm of the lull.  Something dark and insidious, something vicious and sharp toothed.  It bays for _blood_ in the furthest corners of his mind, calls for him to avenge what he has lost, what has been _taken_ from him.

Arthur picks up the poison pen, arms it, and then trots out his bullshit reasoning in order to see if Eggsy will join with him.

“In Harry’s honor, I’m inviting you to be a part of a new world.”  Arthur is all smug superiority and condescension.  “It’s time to make your decision.”

“I’d rather be with Harry.  Thanks.”  It’s all the answer Eggsy truly needs to give, it’s the only one he _can_ give.

Arthur clicks the pen and Eggsy doesn’t feel triumph flare up inside of him but he does know it would have been appropriate.  He sees it the moment Arthur realizes what he’s done.

“The problem with us common types is that we’re light-fingered.”  Eggsy taunts, voice nonchalant but face blank and cold because he’s so far underneath the lull.  “Kingsman’s taught me a lot but … sleight of hand,” Eggsy leans forward because he wants to remember this moment.  Wants to remember what Arthur _sounds_ like as he dies, wants to remember what it _smells_ like, what it feels like, wants to be able to recall the exact patter of the old bastard’s _breath_ as the poison takes effect.  “I had that down already.”

Then Arthur dies in his place, a curse on his lips and Eggsy’s voice in his ear, and it _still_ isn’t enough.

He feels no remorse, no guilt, nothing at all really but the calm of the lull.  Yet even without the lull Eggsy knows that he’d feel nothing of the sort.  Just like with the first man he killed Arthur’s death stirs nothing in him that even hints at regret.

Only victory of a sorts.

He slices Arthur’s neck open without any hesitation, rips the chip from his skin, grabs his phone, and takes off. 

He knows exactly what he has to do and where he has to go.

~~~

Merlin cobbles together a plan that’s something out of an actual spy novel but Eggsy doesn’t care if it came to him in a _fever dream_ as long as it _works_.

Roxy is going up into the sky and Eggsy is going into a mountain, tasked with infiltrating a strong hold on his own.  He doesn’t care though, he’ll do it.

Valentine _killed Harry_ with _Arthur’s_ help and Eggsy will rip the world down around him and all who stand beside him or Eggsy’ll die trying.

~~~

The suit makes Eggsy’s throat close up.  The fact that Harry had actually gone through with it for him was almost enough to break through the lull.

Instead Eggsy pushes the thought away and slips the suit on.

With his hair slicked back Eggsy realizes in that moment that he looks … a great deal like Harry in a way.  He looks polished in a way he’s never been before, smooth and sleek like he’d always noticed Harry was.

It _hurts_.

He looks like what he’d always dreamed he’d be, someone calm and confident.  Someone strong and secure in themselves.  He looks like everything an _alpha_ is supposed to look like.

But he isn’t an alpha.  He’s just an _omega_ in a suit who’s lost the one alpha he might have …

Eggsy shakes the thought away and calls Roxy instead.  She needs the encouragement and he needs to hear a friendly voice.

~~~

It’s surprisingly easy to get inside.  A confident attitude and an electronic invitation is all it takes.

Absently Eggsy wonders if that’s what it’s like to live as an alpha in real life as well.

~~~

He can’t help but give the bartender Harry’s exact description of the perfect martini.

~~~

He gets Merlin into the system and takes a great deal of pleasure in putting Charlie on the ground even if his cover is blown.  That alpha bastard deserved it more than most.

~~~

Everything happens so fast after that.  He races through the halls, Merlin’s voice and his own instincts the only things that matter to him.  The lull keeps him calm, keeps his body moving to kill and run automatically.

Merlin saves him when he makes it back to the plane only to tell him that he has to go back in.

~~~

Merlin shows him the small armory and they both pretend like they don’t know why he chooses the umbrella.

They don’t need to say a word.

Thoughts of Harry are already heavy enough on both of their minds.

~~~

Eggsy uses every ounce of training, ever gymnastic lesson and parkour session to get over, under and around the army Valentine sends at him.  And the ones he can’t get around he goes _through_.

But there’s so many of them, too many of them.

“Merlin,” Eggsy’s breathing is harsh, _just like Harry’s had been_ , as the guards close in on him from both sides.  “I’m _fucked_.”

A horrible thought hits him then.  Harry may be dead but his Daisy and Michelle are still out there, still alive and out in a world about to be devastated by Valentine’s chips.  But there’s only enough time to save _one_ of them.

Eggsy makes his choice and he knows it’s the only one he could _ever_ make.

 _Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy_.

“ _Rox_.”  Eggsy rasps.  “Roxy I need you to call my mate Jamal.  Tell him to get Daisy and Ryan and to lock themselves away.  Tell them to ditch their phones and hide.  Roxy _please_.”

He doesn’t know if Roxy heard him but it was all he could do.  When those chips went active everyone without those implants would be …

“Merlin.”  Eggsy breathes out.  “Remember those implants?  Any chance you can turn them on?”

And just like that Eggsy and Merlin slaughter untold _hundreds._

~~~

The princess behind him is a surprise but Eggsy doesn’t focus on her for more than a second.  Valentine’s voice over the loud speaker means much more to him.

~~~

There’s a monster in Gazelle’s eyes and Eggsy recognizes it, knows it intimately, deeply, because there’s a similar monster in his own eyes, tucked down and away, hidden behind the brim of his cap, the width of his smile, the calm of the lull.

He realizes that they're alike in that moment, two monsters protecting what's their's.  Eggsy loves her in that moment, loves her like fire loves tinder, like a wave loves the shore. 

He loves her because he _is_ her. 

He’s the Gazelle to Harry’s Valentine and she’s the Eggsy to Valentine’s Galahad.  Because if _Harry_ had looked at him and told him to kill the _world_ Eggsy knew he would have smiled and _burned them all_.  All but the few he loved and cared for.

So he loves her, this omega with pain stitching together every seam of her.  This omega who had obviously clawed her way out of hell and come out running on the other side with legs as sharp as the shards of her heart.  He loves her and for a split second he almost wants her to _win_.

But he has Daisy to think about, his precious lil’flower, so no matter how much he loves her it doesn’t stop him from _killing_ her.

Besides he’d _loved_ Harry _more_ and she was one of the ones who _took him_ _from Eggsy_.

~~~

“What’s up man?”  Valentine slurs through a mouthful of blood.  “Is this the part where you say some really bad pun?”

“It’s like you said to Harry,” Eggsy sneers even as he leans down for a better look.  “ _This ain’t that kind of movie bruv_.”

A part of Eggsy wishes it was though because then maybe he’d still have Harry instead of the ache deep down in the center of his heart that he knows it going to eat him alive the first chance it gets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Concerns? Questions?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again wow. You guys are all so amazing. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews.
> 
> Fanmix: http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

“Well despite the shit-storm I’m sure’s to come I’d have to say job well done you two.  Evacuation and destruction of the facility will be underway shortly so for now there’s nothing left for us to do but head back.”  Merlin tells them as he collapses into one of the seats across from where he and Roxy are sitting.

They’re in the air, the plane obviously on autopilot as they wind their way back home.  Eggsy gives the alpha a small nod and a thumbs up while Roxy grins.  She’s bright eyed and alert, tired from the adrenalin rush she’d had but nowhere near as battered and bruised as Eggsy himself.  Merlin’s attention turns to Eggsy then and there’s something almost _sad_ in his eyes.  “Harry would be proud of you Eggsy.”

The words plow into Eggsy like a blow, like the jarring impact of one of Gazelle’s legs, like one of Dean’s fists.  For a split second the lull is ripped down and Eggsy can’t breathe, can’t think, can barely stand to _be_.

 _Oxfords not Brogues._   Eggsy can’t help but chant in his mind as the horror and grief ram into him.  He scrambles for the ragged edges of the lull, desperate to get it back before the other two notice something is off with him.  _Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy._

The lull washes back over him, mutes the agony and the rage of his grief, of his _reality_ , back down to something he can handle, to something he can _contain_.

He manages another nod and a tired grin for Merlin who eyes him for a long moment before turning his attention to the clip board he’s managed to hang onto this entire time.

Eggsy isn’t sure how he’s going to handle all of this when the lull finally does lift for good.

He isn’t sure that he truly _wants_ to.

~~~

The plane ride back to headquarters after that is a blur for Eggsy.  He’s one part exhausted and two parts _numb_ , the lull back in full effect despite how long it’s been since he pulled it over himself forcefully and that one ragged moment when it’d fallen.

In the aftermath of it all his first real thought revolves around Daisy, on getting back to her, on making sure that she, Jamal and Ryan are all alright.  Mobile services are obviously down and he has no way to contact them and that black hole of _maybe_ where his lil’flower is concerned _eats_ at him.  He wants to know if she’s safe so bad that it’s like an _itch_ in his blood, one of the only things strong enough to push through the calm of the lull and truly affect him at his core.

The other doesn’t bare thinking of at the moment.

He thinks about Michelle too of course but the lull is strong enough to block that guilt, to mute the almost horror of what he’d done, of the choice he’d made, of the promise he’d betrayed.

Eggsy’d sworn to himself once that he’d _never_ leave someone of his to be harmed, would never abandon them.

He’s whored himself out, he’s killed and stolen, lied and cheated because of that very promise.  He’d refused to shoot JB in part because of that promise despite the way it had earned him Harry’s disappointment and ire.  He’s done so much over his life in order to hold true to what he considers one of the basic tenets of who he is.

Eggsy doesn’t betray.  Eggsy doesn’t leave.  Eggsy doesn’t _abandon_.

Yet when it had come down to it he’d done just that.

He had left Michelle to the cruelty of a world gone mad, to the not so tender mercies of Dean who’d never had any qualms about hurting her _without_ outside influences.  He’d done that because there’d only been time to save either her or Daisy and Eggsy hadn’t even _tried_ to think of a way to save them both.  He doesn’t know what’s happened to her either but he knows that regardless, when the lull lifts, the guilt will eat at him for a long time.

Still Eggsy knows that it’s a choice he’d make every time without fail.

Daisy is the best of Michelle, of Dean, of _Eggsy_.  She’s the best of them _all_ and Eggsy will do anything and everything, will abandon and destroy anything and everything, even himself, to keep her _safe_.  He’ll do it all to protect her the way no one had _ever_ protected him.

He might be an omega but Eggsy hasn’t forgotten himself since he killed that first alpha.  He knows the truth about himself now, has held onto it with everything he is over the years.  He might not be worth much, he might be nothing but an _omega whore_ but there’s nothing more dangerous than an omega protecting their young.  And, despite blood or parentage or any other petty reasons people might throw at him, Daisy is _his_.

So he might be an _omega_ but he’s an omega that _saved the fucking world_ and he’ll burn it all down in a heartbeat if that’s what he has to do to keep his lil’flower safe.

Without Harry there’s not really anything left to keep him anchored to the rest of the world anyways.  He has his mates of course, or at least he _might_ still have them, as well as Michelle, but it’s not the same.  Without Harry there’s no longer a true divide of loyalties for Eggsy, no longer anyone else for him to orbit around.

Without Harry all Eggsy really has left is Daisy.  Daisy and Kingsman.  And he isn’t even sure if he has that to be honest, isn’t sure what Kingsman will do with him, _to him_ , after what he’s done.  He’s helped save the world yes but he’d also killed Arthur.  And even though the old alpha had been a traitor Eggsy knows firsthand how those little details can come back and bite someone in the ass.

So he’s not sure what Kingsman will do with him, he just knows he’ll give them what’s left of him if they’ll have it.  He will give them the pieces of himself that exist to be _used_ , the ones he’s always turned towards protecting Daisy.  He’ll give them what’s left of the smoking ruins Harry’s death has left behind inside of him.

He’ll give Kingsman all he has because it’s the only way to know for sure that he can protect Daisy.  And honestly that’s all Eggsy really cares about anymore.  That’s all that’s _left_ for him to truly care about anymore.

_Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy._

Eggsy is almost sure that it might be enough to keep him going.  He’s pushed forward through worse and for lesser reasons after all.  Guilt is nothing, pain is nothing.  All that matters is doing what needs to be done.

Still Eggsy knows that when the lull finally does lift there are a lot of things that are going to eat at him for a long time.

~~~

They make it back to England, back to headquarters, and everything is in a flurry.  Merlin leaves the plane at a dead sprint and Eggsy and Roxy are both on his heels without even being asked.

There’s a comradery between the three of them now that Eggsy thinks, _hopes_ , will hold into the future if he actually gets to stay.

The inside of Merlin’s branch is a study in chaos.  Alphas, betas, and omegas alike all run about in what seems to be some sort of purposeful panic.  Eggsy’s almost certain he can smell actual _smoke_ and _fire_ from somewhere although no one looks to be that level of alarmed so he ignores it.

“Start lockdown protocol, code level _Badon Hill_.”  Merlin barks out into the chaos and everyone starts to scramble around even faster now that someone in true authority is back.  Merlin whirls on Eggsy and Roxy then, eyes narrowed and shoulders stiff.  “Three hours, not four, not three an’ half.  _Three_.  Get home, check on your families, get back in one piece.  Kingsman is going dark and self-contained until some of this mess is straightened out so that means the both of you have to be _here_.”

Eggsy understands what that means immediately.  He spins on his heels and hits the doors at a dead run before Merlin can say another word.  Roxy’s not far behind him but Eggsy doesn’t wait for her, just heads towards the shuttle.

Merlin’s given him a boon he knows, a chance to get out of headquarters and check up on his lil’flower and the others even though a lockdown protocol calls for anyone on site to stay on site no matter what.

Eggsy isn’t going to waste a single second of that three hour gift.

~~~

Roxy and him split as soon as they’re out of the tailor’s shop proper.  There’s no cabs to be found obviously but Eggsy doesn’t care.  He knows the streets, knows the alleys and buildings from years of free running and parkour.

He takes off running, ignores the pain in his ribs, in his legs and arms as he slides around curbs and wall jumps to take short cuts and avoid the rabble on the street.

His flat is closer so he goes there first.

The door is closed but not locked and the knob turns easily beneath Eggsy’s hand.

His gun, reloaded on the plane and secured beneath his jacket, finds its way into his hand automatically.  The lull keeps his breathing even, keeps his heartrate steady, as he creeps inside.

Eggsy isn’t sure rather he would laugh or cry at what he finds inside if he was able.

There’s no sign of Dean, no sign of anyone else inside but Eggsy instantly spots his mum.  Michelle is alive, breathing deep and even where she’s on the sofa _asleep_.  Or passed out Eggsy realizes when he sees the tell-tale needle hanging out of the crook of her arm.

He stands there and stares at her for a moment, takes her in.  She’s alive and while Eggsy is distantly grateful he also thinks he’d be bitter if he could be.  Because the world had almost ended, was still ending in some ways, and she’d been too high to even _notice_.

Eggsy doesn’t linger there.  Instead he goes to his small room, rips out a small section of baseboard inside the closet so he can clean out the contents of the small hidden space.  He tosses it all into a small knapsack except for a roll of money he stuffs in his pocket before he slings the bag over his shoulders.  He scoops JB up from where the pug is sleeping on the pile of blankets Eggsy normally nests on, and heads out of the flat.

He doesn’t bother to leave a note or try and wake Michelle.

Eggsy doubts it would matter much either way.

~~~

Jamal’s flat is close by so Eggsy legs it there next, thoughts of Daisy and his mates echoing loudly in his mind.  He beats at the door with the hand not currently holding JB and is two seconds away from busting the fucking thing down when it finally opens and he can see Ryan’s face in the crack.

“Eggsy!”  The door is ripped all the way open and there’s shouting and hugs after that.  Jamal and Ryan crowd around him, run their hands over his shoulders and back and wrap their arms around him in relief.  Eggsy doesn’t normally deal well with so much touching but at the moment the lull keeps him calm, keeps him from flinching and/or skittering backwards.  Or worse, lashing out.

Jamal tells him how some posh sounding bird had called him, had told him to hide with Daisy and Ryan, to ditch their phones.  They’d both been skeptical at first but then she’d said the order had come from _Eggsy_ so they’d obeyed.  They’d locked themselves in Jamal’s flat, pressed some stuff up against the door and thrown their phones out the windows.

And then the world outside had gone to hell.

“You saved us Eggsy.”  Ryan tells him, breathless and so _grateful_ but Eggsy barely registers it.

All of his attention is focused on the wide eyes staring back at him from Jamal’s arms, on sweet curls and the powder soft scent of his babe.

“ _Daisy_.”  Eggsy breathes her name out like a _benediction_ and then she’s in his arms and for the first time in what feels like forever he _almost_ feels alright.

 _Almost_.

~~~

“Take this bruv.”  Eggsy hands Jamal the roll of money he’d pulled out of his room and the small pistol that he’d strapped to his ankle on the plane ride back when Merlin wasn’t looking.  Daisy is tucked into the crook of his neck, wrapped around her blanket, and JB is settled panting at his ankles.

“Eggsy?”  There’s hesitance in Jamal’s voice because for all that they’ve been through Eggsy’s never carried a gun before, not so casually.  They all know how to shoot but having one so readily available has always been more of Dean and Rottie’s style not theirs.  Added to the obviously expensive suit and glasses he’s wearing and the impressive array of bruises and cuts he’s sporting, Eggsy knows he presents a strange picture.

“No questions mate.”  Eggsy presses the gun into Jamal’s hand and turns to stuff the wad of cash into Ryan’s shirt pocket.  “Yous two stay low and stay safe for a bit yeah?  Shit’s gonna go tits up before it gets better I reckon.  Gonna take the lil’flower with me for a while but I’ll be back soon as.”

“You gonna be safe bruv?”  Ryan asks quietly and Eggsy nods at the beta before he turns back towards Jamal.  Jamal’s always been the stronger of the two, more willing to do what needs to be done, so Eggsy directs most of this towards him.  He needs the two of them to stay safe until he’s able to get back to them.

“Anyone comes knocking who outght not you put one in their skull and don’t think twice.”  Eggsy tells him.  “I’ll handle it afterwards if anything comes up.”

“What if it’s Dean?”  Jamal puts the pistol down on the table beside him carefully but Eggsy can see the resolve in his face, that unquestioning loyalty and belief that’s kept the three of them together for so long already.  If he’d been an alpha like he’d always wanted, if he’d formed a traditional pack like few people still did, Eggsy knows that Jamal and Ryan would have been all the betas he could have asked for.

“’Specially if it’s Dean.”  Eggsy grins then, more a baring of teeth really.  “Him you shoot _twice_.”

~~~

Eggsy has time to make one last stop before he heads back towards the shop and headquarters and it’s the easiest and hardest stop of them all.

Eggsy stands in the middle of the front hall of Harry’s house for a long second before he tells JB to stay by the door and moves further inside.

It’s exactly the same as it was when he left it only a day or so ago.  Silent and still, everything in place like Harry’s just going to come back, like he’s just skipped out to the shop instead of …

Eggsy shakes the thought away, squares his shoulders, and goes about what he has in mind.

He makes his way up to Harry’s bedroom quietly, carefully, even though the house is heartrendingly _empty_.

Eggsy knows it might be wrong what he plans to do.  He knows it might make him horrible or sick or some other fucked up thing but he can’t help it.  He wants, _needs_ , something to take with him, something to keep so as to always have a piece of Harry close to him.

So he’ll have reminders of the alpha that he …

He only takes small things.  A pair of cuff-links engraved with elegant double H’s.  The tie Harry had been wearing that day he’d gotten Eggsy out of jail and few others that’d always drawn Eggsy’s eye when Harry had worn them.  A half full bottle of aftershave wrapped carefully in a well-worn and soft RAMC t-shirt.  He places it all carefully into his bag but then something catches his eye.

There, sitting on the table beside Harry’s bed, is a ring.

Eggsy’s hand tremble even through the lull when he reaches down and picks it up.  It’s made of thick gold but it's still elegant in design.  A signet ring if Eggsy’s not mistaken, but not Kingsman issued which means it has to be _Harry’s_.

Eggsy sits down gently on the edge of the bed and it’s only the way Daisy’s secured across his chest in a sling that stops him from throwing himself out across the bed to wallow in Harry’s scent.

As it is his hands _shake_ when he reaches up to undo the clasp to his necklace so that he can slide the ring onto the chain beside the medal Harry had given him all those years ago. 

~~~

Eggsy and Roxy arrive back at the shop within seconds of each other, both red faced and disheveled from their outings.  JB’s in Eggsy’s arms, Daisy’s strapped to his chest, and the small bag of his newly acquired treasures is settled securely across his shoulders.  Roxy has a similar sized bag in hand and her poodle at her heels.

The ride back to the manor is silent.  Roxy doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s apparently grown a toddler sized appendage.  All she does is curl up beside him instead of across from him, as if the closeness is a comfort.  Eggsy curls himself around JB and Daisy both and soaks in the scent of them, lets it wash over him.

Roxy offers to take JB to the barracks with her poodle before meeting him in Merlin’s office and Eggsy agrees instantly.  He sends his pup off with another fond cuddle and chin scratch and then strides off towards where he knows Merlin is.  He makes a stop by the kitchen, puts together some strong tea with a twist of lemon and then heads back out, mug in hand.  Roxy meets him at the elevator with a small but exhausted smile and down they go. 

“The reports are already pouring in from the foreign Kingsman branches,” Merlin tells them, fingers flying over his clipboard and the keyboard to the truly massive computer set up he’s settled himself behind while they were gone.  He barely blinks at the sight of Daisy still strapped to Eggsy’s chest, too focused on the multiple files and video streams up on the panel of screens set into the wall.

“The offices in Greece, Germany, China, India, and America have all begin to report in and the results … the _damages_ … are _staggering_.”  Merlin scrubs a hand over his face harshly.  In return Eggsy presses the still steaming mug into Merlin’s hand absently, eyes fixed on the screens in front of him.

The number of dead is almost _unthinkable_ , the injured even worse.  Shitty signal had saved a few of the more remote regions but not as many as most would think due to the wide use of mobile phones.  Cities and towns across the world are _devastated_.  Hospitals, businesses, _schools for fuck’s sake_ , none of them had been truly safe.  So many are dead and even more are dying because there aren’t enough first-responders, not enough aid workers to reach them all in time.

That doesn’t even take into account the rampant property destruction, the fact that there are entire countries without leadership, or the mass chaos, the looting and rioting that has sprung up in the aftermath. 

“ _Fuck_.”  Merlin whispers, uncharacteristically shaken in the face of the scope of the damage that has been done to the world.  Eggsy can hear the almost muted sense of horror beneath the carefully constructed detachment in Merlin’s voice even if he can’t feel it for himself at the moment.  “We ourselves are running far below full capacity.  We’re short an Arthur, we have tw-three knights confirmed dead, and two more m.i.a.”

 _‘Two minutes,’_ Eggsy can’t help but think, ‘ _it only took two minutes and Valentine almost got what he wanted anyways.  The bastard.’_

Eggsy manages to keep a handle on his exhaustion and the brief flickers of pain he doesn’t let himself focus on.  He’s felt worse in the past after a night at the hands of one of Dean’s _friends_.  There’s no time for him to be hurt at the moment, no time for pain or grief or exhaustion.

There’s no time for _Eggsy_.  Not when the world is still in shambles, is still on the brink of throwing itself into the abyss.

“Merlin.”  Eggsy steps quietly to the man’s side, reaches out and lays a hand on the alpha’s shoulder in a move that he _hopes_ is comforting.  He’s not really sure to be honest.  Between the lull and the fact that comfort isn’t something he’s used to giving or receiving unless it’s to Daisy Eggsy is aware that he could be far off the mark.

 “Yes lad?”  Merlin takes a deep breath and turns to look up at him, Scottish brogue thick with emotion despite the calm look plastered on his face.

“What do you need?”  Eggsy asks softly, calmly.  He feels serene inside, gentle even.  His mates and his Daisy are safe, Michelle is alive and Roxy is beside him.  Merlin is secure in his office and JB is curled up around Roxy’s poodle Concorde in the barracks where they’ll be safe and looked after.  Everything is as right as it could possibly be at the moment as far as he’s concerned.

Eggsy resolutely ignores the one thing, the one _person_ , missing from the entire equation.

Merlin stares at him for a moment, eyes searching and brows furrowed.  Eggsy just smiles, ignores the way his lip is split, and squeezes at Merlin’s shoulder gently.  Merlin, Kingsman, the _world_ , needs all the help it can get at the moment and Eggsy knows that.

“Use me bruv.”  Eggsy tells the alpha, and those are words he’s never willingly said before even if the situation is different.  “Might not be a knight proper but you seen what I can do.  So promise me you’ll watch after Daisy and JB and then _use me_.”

And Merlin does.

~~~

Eggsy and Roxy are sent off to secure the crown alongside MI6.  The royal family had been locked away by Valentine in a separate location Merlin had found in the book Eggsy had pulled from the mad man’s coat pocket right before he’d headed back to the plane.  Honestly it’s almost more surreal than the entire thing at Valentine’s _secret mountain bunker_.

Eggsy helps shift rubble and headless corpses alongside a tall, blond alpha who smells like blood and cognac beneath the scent of Earl Grey and bergamot that clings to him in a way that can only be a true mate-bond scent.

There’s a shift in Eggsy’s heart beneath the calm of the lull, a sharp but quickly smothered spike of pain and anguish, as he can’t help but wonder what Harry would have smelt like if they’d mated.  If Eggsy was that kind of omega, the kind that alphas _kept_ instead of _used_.  If everything between him and Harry hadn’t traced back to the debt the alpha had felt he’d owed.

What would it have been like to find hints of his own sweeter, fuller scent mixed in with the intoxicating blend that had, _that still_ , defined Harry in Eggsy’s mind?  What would it have been like to have Harry love him back enough to think Eggsy was worthy of something like that?

“They’re knighting them young these days aren’t they?”  The alpha smirks almost teasingly at Eggsy as he effortlessly tosses another hunk of concrete away from where they’re carefully digging out the doorway that stands between them and their objective.  “Merlin’s practically robbing the cradle now days I would have to say.”

Eggsy just stares at him impassively as he reaches down and lifts another mangled corpse out of his way.

“No offense meant love.”  The alpha winks, broad shoulders shifting beneath his suit jacket in a careless shrug.  There’s something unspeakably fond in his bright blue eyes when he talks again.  “We’ve got a tech wizard of our own who still has _spots_.  It’s a brave new world after all.”

Eggsy makes sure to  _accidentally_  hit him with a severed arm but the agent only laughs and turns back to their work.

~~~

Time flies by after that in a whirlwind of places, people, and _death_.  Eggsy had told Merlin to use him and Merlin had taken him at his word.

Eggsy barely has time to _breathe_ after he and Roxy split from helping MI6.  Merlin has him running constantly after that.  He’s in Dublin hours later, and then on his way to Paris after that.

Every two bit criminal who’s managed to make it out of what the news channels all call V-Day alive is scrambling to fill power vacuums in every illegal organization across the world.

Eggsy’s been tasked with making sure that the majority of them die before they succeed.

~~~

Eggsy wakes himself up screaming that first night, the memory of Harry’s last moments fresh and visceral in his mind.  The sound of the gunshot, the feed going dark, the terrible aching knowledge of what had happened.

All of it is fresh and real and _too much_.

The calm of the lull is gone, fallen to the wayside after sleep had finally taken him.  As a result he shakes himself off of the seat of the train he’s on and onto the cabin floor where he curls himself into a ball.

‘ _Harry’s dead_.’ His mind keens the words, part re-realization and part despair.  In those moments he’s a pained and wounded creature, half feral with the fresh rush of grief that swamps him.   ‘ _Harry’s dead_.’

Eggsy whines high and desperate in the back of his throat, the pleading mewl of an omega in distress, an aching call for _mate_ and _comfort_.

It’s a sound he’s never made before in his _life_.

There’s no one there to hear it.

~~~

The next day, lull drawn back over him firmly, Eggsy stares down at his phone where the live camera feed of the makeshift nursery Merlin had put together for Daisy is being streamed.  His lil’flower’s asleep, safe, soft, and warm in the crib that had appeared out of thin air for her.  JB’s settled on the rug in front of the crib, looking surprisingly alert and on guard for such a small thing.  Eggsy makes a note to get him something extra nice for being so good when he gets back.

For a brief second he has a half formed thought about sending the link to Harry who’ll get a kick out of the pug pretending to be a guard dog before the thought breaks off as Eggsy remembers with sudden sickening clarity that _Harry’s dead_.

It takes him a moment but eventually he puts his phone away and instead just stares silently out the window of the train.  He has another hour or so before it’ll be time to report in to Merlin through the glasses and get more information on his next objective.

Eggsy wants to get as much done as he can before his hold on the lull completely falters and the calm rational that’s keeping him moving at the moment abandons him for good.

His hand comes up to play with the ring that hangs from the chain around his neck in a move that’s quickly become second nature.  It's also a reminder that _Harry’s dead_ and Eggsy … well Eggsy isn’t so hungry anymore.  His lunch, a spread of breads and cheeses that he’d normally fight someone for, goes untouched.

~~~

 _‘Harry’s dead.’_   Eggsy reminds himself again two days later when the sight of a broad back in a well cut suit turns his head automatically.  That night he strips down and puts on Harry’s old RAMC shirt to sleep in when he’s finally somewhere safe and secure.

~~~

‘ _Harry’s dead.’_   Eggsy forces himself to remember when the sound of a warm, husky laugh ripples across the square and almost causes him to lose his grip on the alpha he’s currently garroting in the shadows of an abandoned alleyway.  Harry’s cuff-links glint sharply in the moonlight from their places on his shirt sleeves.

~~~

‘ _Harry’s dead.’_   Eggsy whimpers to himself in the quiet of his mind after the scent of chocolate, brandy, and thunderstorms, the smooth, dark, and dangerous combination that screams _Harry_ to his hindbrain, assaults him on a street corner in Switzerland.  The scent of Harry’s aftershave is both a relief and torture when Eggsy uncorks the bottle carefully that night. 

~~~

It becomes a part of his mantra, something he says to himself every day to keep moving, to keep pushing forward after he ties one of Harry’s ties around his neck.  _Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy.  Harry’s dead._

He chants it to himself as he races to his next target, as he races to stay one step ahead of the ever present threat of the lull failing in order to get as much done for Merlin as he possibly can.

~~~

The only problem with everything, with Eggsy’s whole determined push forward, is the fact that after that first night the lull simply … _doesn’t lift_.

And so Eggsy just … keeps going.

~~~

Merlin sends Eggsy from place to place.

Cairo, Mozambique, Barcelona, a small town in India whose name he can’t pronounce or remember really because he only briefly passes through it on his way to put a bullet in his next target.

Eggsy barely sleeps and when he does his dreams are awash in carmine, splattered with crimson and haunted by the echoing sound of the gunshot that’d ripped through his entire world.

He only eats when the hunger grows strong enough to cut through the lull and even then the food is tasteless, little more than ash in his mouth.  He loses weight, can see it in the newly formed hollows of his cheeks, in the way his jaw looks sharper and his collarbones a bit more stark.  He doesn’t really care, just pulls on his suit jacket, one of Harry’s ties and his cuff-links, and then keeps moving.

Only Daisy evokes any true deep emotion in him anymore.  Only the sight of her on the stream Merlin keeps running for him, only the sound of her voice and the joy on her face during the video chats he has with her, bring him any kind of joy.

Eggsy’s day to day life is awash in shades of grey, sepia toned and muted by the ever present barrier of the lull, like the colors have been sucked out of his existence.  He feels color blind down to his soul but beyond all of that he’s utterly and disturbingly _calm_.

He’s never been in the lull for so long, so completely, but he’s beginning to think it might be for the best.  He seems to do better when there’s no way for his emotions to take him over, when there’s only time for him to _act_ and _do_ and no time for him to _be_.

~~~

Eggsy doesn’t even have a code name, isn’t a knight proper or anything of that sort.

He’s just Eggsy over the comms and he’s grown used to the way Merlin’s brogue twists around the sound of his name in his ear.  He knows that it would have bothered him weeks ago to have no set place in Kingsman, to have no set code name, no set sign of acceptance.

It would have ate at him then.  But now, now it doesn’t really matter.

Now there’s only three phrases that truly matter to him.

_Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy.  Harry’s dead._

A code name, or his lack thereof, doesn’t even register to him as important now.

~~~

“Eggsy lad, what in blazes happened to you?” It’s the first time the two of them have video chatted in weeks and Merlin looks almost horrified at the sight of him.  All Eggsy does is grin crookedly around teeth stained red and an eye swollen shut.

“Things went a little sideways guv but I ‘andled it.”  His accent peeks out in stops and starts now days, much of it forcefully smoothed away.  “Estevan was a might more prepared than the intel suggested that’s all.”

In truth the mark he’d gone after had been _far_ more paranoid than the info packet Eggsy had received had noted him to be.  The beta had been dead-set on protecting the child trafficking ring he’d inherited from an alpha uncle after V-Day.  The place he’d set up as his headquarters had been heavily fortified and guarded.

Now, thanks to Eggsy and a few well-placed if excessively brutal knives and explosives, the compound is a smoldering ruin and dead-set Estevan is just plain _dead_.

Eggsy can’t abide by the ones who hurt children, babes not even old enough to present yet, many of them younger even than he’d been when his own personal hell had begun.  He’d torn through the compound like a whirlwind and then he’d torn through Estevan.  _Slowly_.

In the end there’d been no one there to hear the beta scream.  Just like there’d been no one there to hear _Eggsy_ scream in the past.  Just like there’d been no one there to hear the countless children Estevan and his family had destroyed scream.

“That’s it,” Merlin looks determined then, face hard and shoulders set straight.  “I’m calling you back in.  I never should have let you stay out in the field for this long anyways.  Not like this.  Harry w-”

“Harry’s _dead_ Merlin.”  Eggsy cuts Merlin off so sharply that the alpha actually starts and stares at him with brows raised high in shock.  Eggsy doesn’t care, _can’t_ care, but even with the lull he has no desire to hear about Harry, no desire to be reminded by someone else of what he’s lost, of what’s been _taken_ from him.  Not when he can’t escape the fact as it is, not when Harry’s death haunts his every breath, his every heartbeat.  Not when it’s tattooed across his very soul.  The tokens he’d taken serve him well as both comfort and torment, as both punishment and relief.  He doesn’t need Merlin adding to either.

“Eggsy …” Merlin seems like he doesn’t know what to say and there’s that hint of sadness and something that looks like anger in his eyes again that Eggsy can’t be bothered to investigate.

“He’s dead.”  Eggsy bites back the other words that long to spill forward as he repeats himself, voice even and calm.  Eggsy’s aware of how often those two words can be ascribed to him now days too.  “But I’m not.  I’m not a knight but I’m here and I’m willing.  I told you to use me Merlin.”

“I know you did lad.”  Merlin sighs and scrubs a hand over his face.  Eggsy can’t help but wonder if the man’s sleeping either but judging by the circles undercutting his eyes he thinks not.  “I know you did and God help me I _have_.” 

“And you’ll keep on with it guv.”  Eggsy tells him softly.  “I’m good, calm and even.”  Eggsy can practically taste the double meaning in his words but he knows that Merlin doesn’t.  “Besides, this,” Eggsy gestures to his face, “ain’t no worse than some of the scrapes I’ve had in the past.  Regular ol’ Wednesday night if you ask me.  This don’t even make top fifty.  Swear down.”  It was true too, Wednesdays had always been particularly bad for him thanks to Dean’s early hours and irritability.

“Really now?”  Merlin darts a small look off screen that Eggsy can’t even begin to decipher.  “Seems like you’ve got some stories you’ve been withholding lad.”

“Not really.”  Eggsy shrugs and can’t help but carry on in a mirror to the conversation he’d once had with Charlie.  “Us gutter trash got to keep entertained somehow and we tend to not be the delicate type like you highborn are.”

“Somehow I doubt it’s all that simple.”  Merlin mutters before he sighs in defeat, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.  “ _Fine_ , I’ve got another assignment for you.  But you _will_ be making a stop by headquarters sooner rather than later.”

“Sure thing guv.”  Eggsy has no intention of doing anything of the sort, not until he has to at least, but he plays along.  “Just keep watching after my cubs and we’ll be square.”

“Young Daisy is a delight.”  Merlin looks almost fond at the mention of his lil’flower.  “I never did ask you though if your mother’s alright.  I could make some calls, find out, maybe get the babe back to her if you’d like?”

“ _No_.”  Eggsy cuts in, the word filled with so much ice he’s surprised it doesn’t freeze his mouth on the way out.  Again the lull is weak against anything revolving around Daisy and her welfare.  As it’s meant to be.  “You keep her there Merlin or I’m _done_.”

“Eggsy you can’t mean …” Merlin starts to protest but Eggsy again cuts him off.

“Ain’t asked you for nothing except to watch her so I can to be of use now have I?”  Eggsy puts forward quietly.  “I’m not a proper knight remember?  She goes, _I_ go.  Swear down Merlin.”

“Okay lad, okay.”  Merlin looks faintly bewildered but he covers it quickly.  “I’ll send your next packet to you in a bit so in the meantime try and clean yourself up for fuck’s sake.”

Eggsy just nods, gives him a small grin, and ends the video call.

~~~

Eggsy goes to Australia where he learns that the rumors are true and the wildlife will in fact try to kill you quicker than the people.

It’s an experience to say the least but he still takes out his target, a sweet looking omega woman who’d been perfectly happy to produce and sell her new recipe for a strong, omega targeted date rape drug to the highest bidder.

Eggsy makes sure she takes a long walk off a short pier and that the recipe and everything to do with it goes with her.

~~~

Eggsy finally finds himself back in London some untold weeks later.  He’s tired enough that the exhaustion is finally beginning to actually get to him but he still pushes forward.  Harry’s ring and his medal are firm, hot weights against his chest, badges of purpose, sigils of what he must do.

Merlin had video called him two days ago, face solemn and eyes worried like they’ve been for the past few weeks.  His voice had been gentle, coaxing almost in a way Eggsy had never heard from him before.  Like Eggsy was some wild thing that needed to be lured in.  “You need to come home lad.  It’s time now.  There’s things to be done, _people_ you need to … meet.”

So Eggsy had finished up his assignment and come back, back home to London at last.

It’s easy to see that things have quieted down in the weeks he’s been gone, the roughness of V-Day already beginning to be smoothed over in many ways.

The tailor shop is silent, Dagonet, the man behind the counter who’d dealt with Eggsy that day with Harry, looks at him a bit wide eyed when he walks in but Eggsy ignores it.  He knows he looks a bit rough for the wear at the moment but there’s nothing to be done about it really.  So instead of saying anything Eggsy just nods at him and heads for the dressing room that’ll take him to the shuttle.

He’s surprised to see Roxy waiting for him on the platform once he reaches the manor, JB and Concorde at her heels and Daisy in her arms.

“ _My flower_.”  Eggsy summons up his best grin as he swoops down and takes Daisy from Roxy to give her a little twirl before he brings her close so he can rub his cheeks against her soft hair.  Daisy coos at him and then says his name a lot clearer than she’d been able to the last time he’d seen her in person.  She's not at all startled by the way he looks and Eggsy knows that it's because seeing him bruised and bloody had long ago become familiar to her.

After a bit of cuddling and some light scenting Eggsy bends down to ruffle JB’s rolls and then turns his attention toward Roxy.

“Foxy-Rox.”  Eggsy quirks a crooked grin at her and arches his still healing brow at her.  The lull may mute everything for him but Eggsy’d long ago mastered the art of appearing normal so it’s not really an issue.

“Eggsy.”  Roxy takes a step towards him, her hand hovering in the air between them with an uncharacteristic degree of hesitation.  “You look … good.”

They both know it’s a lie.  He looks like he’s been run over, picked up and dusted off and then run over again before someone had finally hung him out to dry.  Luckily reality is kinder in this particular instance.  He’d only been run over the once.  As it stands the only thing clean on him is Harry’s tie and his cuff-links.  Even his knapsack is tattered and torn although the treasures inside are thankfully still secure.

“What’s going on Rox?”  Eggsy’s already moving forward towards the large meeting room that’s used in the mansion, a replica of the round table room at the shop but far larger and far more secure.  “Why’d Merlin call me back for?”

“We’ve a new Arthur.”  Roxy tells him softly and Eggsy’s almost proud of the fact that his steps don’t falter at all.  “All of the knights have been recalled and the selection process for the vacant seats are underway.”

“Think they’ll give me a seat or do you think I’ll have to join the recruits again?”  Eggsy asks, actually curious.  He’s fairly certain they won’t kick him out altogether, that Merlin won’t allow it if at all possible, but he’s not too sure how things will actually progress from here and he's never had what could be considered an abundance of faith. 

“It’s, there’s …”  Roxy falters for a long moment like she’s trying to find the right words, like she doesn’t know quite what to say.

“Just spit it out Roxy.”  Eggsy presses a kiss against Daisy’s fingers as he looks up and realizes that they’re only a few feet away from the conference room door.  He awkwardly shrugs out of his knapsack so he can lay it carefully in one of the thickly padded leather chairs outside of the room.  A quick hand signal has JB settled into a guard position directly in front of it.  It wouldn’t do to go into the round table room with a dirty knapsack and a dog on top of everything else that’s wrong with him.  He’s meeting the new Arthur after all and he looks torn up enough as it is and that’s not even mentioning the babe in his arms.

“Eggsy you should know … that is to say … you should be warned …”  There’s something almost like anguish on Roxy’s face and Eggsy can’t help but reach out to her with a clumsy gesture of comfort.

“Hey now, it’s alright Roxy.”  Eggsy tries to soothe her even as he drops his hand from her and reaches out to open the door in front of them.  “Can’t be all that bad can it?”

After all Daisy is safe in his arms and Eggsy’s spent the last longest time with that other horrible truth circling around inside his head.  _Harry’s dead.  Harry’s dead.  Harry’s dead._   He’ll be able to weather pretty much _anything_ by this point.

Eggsy pushes the door open before she can answer.  There is a small sea of unfamiliar faces, knights he’s heard of but never met Eggsy knows.  And there, at the head of them all stands Merlin, face heavy with guilt and mouth pursed with displeasure.

At first Eggsy isn’t sure why but then his attention is caught by a movement at the head of the table and he turns his gaze in that direction only to feel his breath freeze in his lungs.

Sitting at the head of the table, in Arthur’s seat, is _Harry_ _Hart_.  He’s wearing a gold embroidered eye-patch and a small smile and overall he looks as hearty and devastatingly handsome as the day Eggsy last saw him.

 _“Roxy.”_   Eggsy keeps his voice low so that only she can hear him.  “Roxy do you see him?  Is he _real?”_

Roxy make a low, almost wounded sound beside him but doesn’t answer.

“Eggsy, my dear boy.”  Harry raises a hand to motion him further into the room and towards an empty chair on his left.  “So good of you and Lancelot to join us.  Take a seat.”

At the sound of his voice Eggsy realizes that it’s all _real_ , that this Harry isn’t some figment of his twisted and yearning imagination.

Harry is somehow alive, truly and wholly alive, and from the look on Merlin’s face and Roxy’s stuttering panic, Eggsy is the _last_ to know.

In that moment Eggsy feels his entire world _stop_ and then _crumble_ to pieces around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Concerns or requests? Let me know and/or feel free to drop by tumblr and visit me there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone who asked, yes that MI6 agent was Bond and yes he bonded with Q because I'm a sucker for those two and I'm trash enough to slip them into this. We'll just ignore all of the canon references to Bond being fiction.
> 
> As always -> Fanmix: http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

The lull that’s kept Eggsy so calm and even for _months_ now fractures so sharply that Eggsy’s almost sure it makes an actual audible sound. 

The lull’s been held together for so long by three phrases.  The shelter of calm and control he’s been huddled underneath has been corner-stoned and supported by what have become the three laws of Eggsy’s world.  Three simple and yet all-powerful phrases that have kept him moving ever forward.

_Oxfords not Brogues.  Protect Daisy.  Harry’s dead._

Only now one of those phrases no longer exists.  One of the truths that have been acting as Eggsy’s tethers to reality is _gone_ and the lull can no longer contain him, can no longer stand up against the strain. 

The lull shatters like glass and the world rushes in around him in an explosion of vibrant color, deafening sound and _blinding_ _pain_.

Harry is _alive_ and the feeling that wells up inside of Eggsy’s chest is equal parts _elation_ and stark, devastating _betrayal_.

Eggsy’s vision whites out beneath the trauma of it all and for a split second suspended in time nothing exists for him except for Daisy’s warm weight in his arms.

In that moment he’s creature of extremes.  Two halves of one whole fighting for dominance in a body too small and a heart too _broken_ to contain them both.

One half of him wants to _keen_ , wants to throw himself at Harry’s feet, to wrap himself around the alpha’s knees and _sob_.

He wants to _beg_ Harry not to leave him again, to let Eggsy stay by his side.  To plead with Harry to see him as an omega of _worth_ , to see that Eggsy is _good_ and _smart_ and so very _strong_.  That he can follow orders, that he’s stayed true all this time, that _months_ apart haven’t dampened his loyalty or his lov-.

The other half of him wants to _roar_.  Wants to go for Harry’s _throat_ , for _Merlin’s_ throat, for _Roxy’s_.  Wants to rip and tear and _rend_ them all to _pieces_ just like they’ve done to him.

Because they’ve _betrayed_ him, they have _ripped him apart from the inside out_.

He’d let them _in_ , had given each of them a home inside of him, and _this_ is how they’ve repaid him.  With this shattering _treachery_.

He’d _mourned_ goddamn them.  He’d mourned and they’d _let_ _him_.

Eggsy isn’t even sure who he _is_ anymore without that grief, has let it swallow and shape him into something new that he’s just learned is a _lie_.

A hand on his shoulder, _Roxy’s a distant part of his mind realizes and the thought is no longer a relief_ , jolts Eggsy back into reality with a harsh snap.

Eggsy’s body goes stiff beneath the touch, goes rigid and tense as a snarl, so low and thrumming it’s basically sub vocal, builds in the back of his throat for a second before he can stifle it properly.  The look he cuts in her direction must be as feral and vicious as it feels because Roxy pales even further, drops her hand, and takes a small but noticeable step away from him.

 _‘Good,’_ Eggsy thinks darkly to himself, _‘because he doesn’t want her to touch him.  Doesn’t want any of them to touch him.  He’s so tired of being touched by people who do nothing but hurt him in the end.’_

All Eggsy truly wants in that moment is to _run_.  He wants to take Daisy and JB and flee like he had that night so long ago when he’d stepped between Daisy and that alpha.  He wants to hide, wants to go somewhere _safe_ and _warm_.  He wants somewhere secure where he can nurse his wounds, both physical and emotional.

In a moment of sheer desperation and with nothing else to lose Eggsy wants his _closet_ back.  Wants the ragged old flat he’d grown up in back, wants the scratch of his rough worn blankets and the smell of clove cigarettes in the air back.  He wants that old pain _back_ , wants that familiar type of despair, that almost comfortable sense of helplessness.

For just a moment Eggsy wants to go _home_.

The only problem is that in reality Eggsy doesn’t have a home.  Not really, not anymore, if he ever really did at all.  Plus for so long now, in one way or another, _Harry_ has been his safe place.

Even when Harry had been _dead_ he’d still been safe for Eggsy, had still been a source of equal parts comfort and torment.  His memory, Eggsy’s … _devotion_ to him, all of it had been a safe port in storm strewn seas.  Harry’d been an anchor for the lull to hold onto, a source of grief to fuel Eggsy’s mad push forward, a bright spot in a life that had long gone dark.

And now they’ve taken even _that_ from him.

He can barely breathe then from the hurt of it all.  As much as all of the things that had happened in his past had beaten him down and worn away at him, as much as all of it had been its own special brand of agony, none of it hurts more than _this_.

Because the flat had been _pain_ and _hate_ and _blood_ but at least Eggsy can handle that, at least Eggsy knows he can survive that.  This … this he isn’t so sure about.

None of it slices deeper, hits harder, makes him bleed heavier, than this single moment of realization, this single moment of _existence_.

Nothing is more potent than this unique flavor of heartbreak.

Because … because Harry is _alive_ and Eggsy hadn’t been good enough to _tell_ , hadn’t been _important_ enough to inform.

In this, as in so many other things in his life, Eggsy has come in _last_.

Finally Eggsy thinks he might just have found the thing to _break_ him.

~~~

The white fades from the edges of his vision after a few moments and in a burst of clarity, Eggsy realizes that he can’t lose himself here, can’t give into this pain, this _weakness_.

Not now, not here, not in front of these … _alphas_.

Lull or no lull Eggsy knows that he can’t show himself to be vulnerable.  If, by some grace, Eggsy is to stay a Kingsman he needs these people to respect him at least to some degree.

Bruised, bloody, and a babe in arm is a bad enough first impression as it is.  He’ll not add to that by having a breakdown in front of them all and proving himself to be a _weak-kneed omega_ as well.

He has to find the strength to keep calm, to not rage and weep by turns.  By this point Daisy and his pride, as tattered as it has always been, are all that he has left.

 _Oxfor-_ The familiar phrase starts to run through his mind but Eggsy forcefully puts a stop to it.  That isn’t a safe phrase anymore either, it’s no longer something used to make him _brave_.  It’s just something else _Harry_ had given him and right now it brings little in the way of comfort.

Bereft of all else Eggsy turns to the one thing, the one truth, that _always_ keeps him focused.

_Protect Daisy._

And Eggsy knows that Kingsman is still the best way to do that.

So Eggsy pulls himself together in sections.  Slots what shattered pieces of himself he can find into place with hands that shake even as the jagged edges cut into him even deeper.  He shifts his grip on Daisy’s warm body, pulls her closer to his chest in a move that he knows is obviously protective and fits himself together as best he can.  He’s so far from whole it’s laughable, little more than jagged slivers pell-mell swept together like so much crystal shattered under heel.

Eggsy does what he always does in these types of situations, in times where his hurt is bubbling right beneath his skin but he refuses to let anyone else see him _bleed_.

He grabs the slow churning, arctic rage in his gut that’s been bolstered by years of abuse with both hands and _yanks_.  The resulting burble of wrath that swells up in his heart sharpens his senses and gives him the strength to do what comes next.  Because Eggsy might seem brash and bright and bold but the truth is that, even without the lull, he’s always burned _cold_.  So he drops his shoulders, slouches just a bit in that casual way he knows comes across as arrogant, and _grins_.

His split lip pulls, he tastes blood and he knows he shows too many teeth by the way Merlin’s eyes and Harry’s one good one narrow on him suddenly but Eggsy doesn’t care, _can’t_ care.

“Sorry I’m late sir.”  Eggsy dips his head in a brief nod in Harry’s direction, his diction as sharp and crisp as he’s ever been able to make it.  It’s modeled after Harry’s own speech patterns and for the first time in _months_ it tastes wrong in his mouth.  “Had a spot of trouble on the way back.  I hope I didn’t inconvenience anyone.”

“Not at all lad.”  Merlin is the one to answer after a brief moment of silence and there’s something flustered and almost _fretting_ in his voice.  Eggsy has to fight down the way his lip wants to curl further up, how he wants to snarl and hiss and snap his teeth at the man.  The rest of the room, trained in subtleties as they all are, are already getting enough of a show and he refuses to add to it more than necessary.  “If you’ll take a seat we’ll get started.”

Merlin gestures Eggsy towards the empty seat on Harry’s left.  In response Roxy steps forward then and moves to take a seat beside the polished bloke Eggsy remembers to be Percival but Eggsy refuses to move.

“I’ll stand if that’s all the same Merlin.”  Eggsy’s sure his grin is still comprised of more teeth than is strictly considered _polite_ , but he gives zero actual fucks at this point.  “This one’s likely to fuss if I sit and as I’ve already arrived late I’d hate to set things back any further.”

If they want him that close to Harry in this moment they’ll have to drag him by his fucking _hair_.

And, omega or not, battle weary and desolate or not, he’d like to see any of them fucking _try_.

~~~

There’s a long pause of silence and Eggsy feels the tension in the room like fingernails raking down his spine.  He doesn’t react though, keeps his grin even, his shoulders loose, and his grip on Daisy firm.  From his place by the door he watches as Merlin and Harry trade a silent but heavy glance.

Harry nods and Merlin turns back to his clipboard and begins to talk.

He goes over the details to a few of the more important missions that’ve been accomplished since V-Day and Eggsy is almost pleased to note that more than a fair share of them are ones he himself had handled.  Merlin doles out information on everything from the current financial crisis to hit the euro all the way to the renewed conflicts in the Middle East and the rioting that’s still going strong in the US.  He also gives out information on the final tallies for damages from everywhere from Japan to London itself.   The numbers are still staggering, still hard to believe for all that Eggsy has seen some of it first-hand.

It is, Eggsy realizes, essentially a catch-up meeting, an effort to make sure all of the knights are up to speed at one time.  He pays careful attention, aware that he’s been out in the world for months now but not really in any position to absorb any information but what had been necessary for his survival or the mission itself.

He staunchly refuses to look at Harry.

Finally Merlin winds down a bit and his face goes from serous and business like to something less formal but still as sharp.

“Now for our final piece of business.  As you well know a full meeting of the Table is only called on very rare occasions, most notably on the death of a knight.” Eggsy feels Harry’s gaze on the side of his face again like a brand but he says nothing and deliberately keeps his own attention focused on Merlin.  It’s the safer option even if the hint of guilt that still lingers around Merlin’s eyes when he looks back up makes his teeth _itch_.  “There are also very few circumstance that have all the knights recalled to the Table in person but, gentlemen, we’ve finally reached such an occasion.  We are here today to see to the introduction of our new Arthur and as you know that requires a full audience of all living knights in order to be official.”

Merlin moves then, sits down his clipboard on the table so that he can pick up a crystal cut tumbler filled with a dark amber liquor.  It matches the tumblers set across the table, one for each occupied seat at the table

“Both Bedivere and Pellinore are dead and customarily we would toast to the death of two fellow knights.”  Harry’s voice, smooth and sinful, rings out then.  He has his own tumbler of brandy in his hand.  Despite everything it takes all Eggsy has not to let his eyes slip closed at the sound of Harry speaking outside of his dreams again.  “Yet in this case, given the fact that both died as traitors I believe the lapse in that particular tradition can be forgiven.”

“Instead,” Merlin cuts in then, at ease with Harry in a way Eggsy had never seen him with the former Arthur, “we shall toast to the crowning of a new king and what shall hopefully be his long and _prosperous_ reign.”

“To Harry Hart, our new Arthur.”  Merlin calls softly as he raises his glass in the air and the sentiment is echoed by the other knights as they all drink.  “Long may he reign.”

The glass settled on the table in front of the chair to Harry’s left, the one so obviously meant for Eggsy, remains untouched.

“Now then,” Merlin is all business again once the toast is finished, clip board in hand and shoulders straight, “we have three open spots at the table with the Galahad designation available now alongside those of both Pellinore and Bedivere.  Trials are underway for all three slots which has given us a rather _large_ pool of recruits to stumble over on the manor grounds.  I would ask that you be careful not to break any of them too badly while you’re all here.  The selection process will, hopefully, conclude within the next six weeks and with all three designations filled we will finally be considered fully operation once more.”  Merlin takes another long look around the table before he nods and turns back to Harry.  “And that concludes the absolutely _titillating_ information I had to share with you all.”

“Dismissed.”  Harry tells the table with an expressive wave of his hand.  “You’ll be getting additional information from your individual handlers later on today.”

The other knights all push to their feet silently and the majority of them move towards the head of the table where Harry and Merlin both stand.  Harry’s already half risen from his chair, eyes trained on Eggsy when Eggsy feel his breath catches lightly in his throat.  It’s a small intake of breath that he knows no one else hears but he can’t bite it down when Merlin’s words finally sink in.

Three designations were available, Galahad, Pellinore, and Bedivere, all of the knights lost in one way or another thanks to V-Day.

 _Three_ designations were open with _three_ trials _already_ _underway_ and yet Merlin had made no mention of _Eggsy_.  There’d been no mention of his name, no mention of him becoming a true knight or anything of the sort.

Eggsy feels a slightly hysterical laugh begin to build up in his throat but he bites it down.

After everything, after all he’s done and all that’s been done to him, he isn’t even going to be given a designation, isn’t even going to become a knight.

At one point a codename hadn’t even mattered to Eggsy but that had been before his entire world had become a _lie_.

Now it’s just one more rejection.  One more denial.  One more _failure_.

And it’s one too far.

Eggsy looks in Harry’s direction then and is surprised when Harry’s eye immediately finds and hold his own gaze.  There’s something in Harry’s expression, something beneath that calm mask that Eggsy can’t quite place, can’t quite name.  Beyond that though is a steely sort of determination and Eggsy knows that Harry intends to confront him, intends to approach him as soon as he’s able.

That’s something that Eggsy just can’t allow to happen.

Not yet.  Maybe not ever.

So he turns on his heel and does the one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to do in a very long time.

He flees.

~~~

“Eggsy, wait, please.”  It is, unsurprising in some ways, Roxy who comes after and reaches him first.  He can hear the plaintive note in her voice but he ignores it, keeps right on moving with Daisy in his arms and JB at his heels.  It’s only when she reaches out and grabs him by the elbow that he reacts.

“ _Don’t touch me_.”  He snarls as he jerks away from her touch and whirls on her, one arm wrapped around Daisy’s back and his hand carefully cradling her head.  “I luv ya Rox, you know I do, but I’ll go for your fuckin _throat_ if you touch me again.”

She looks stricken, beautiful face pale, eyes wide and faintly glossy.  Eggsy _hates_ it, hates what’s happened, hates what the pain and anger and betrayal in his chest has made him into in this moment but he can’t stop it.  He _can’t_.  And what’s worse is that a small dark part of him doesn’t even _want_ to.

He’s been numb for so long now, been under the lull for _months_ out of grief and it was all for _nothing_.

“Eggsy.”  Roxy practically whimpers and a distant part of him can’t help but think he’s never seen an alpha so sad before, so obviously heartbroken over anything dealing with him.  “I’m so so sorry.  Eggsy you have to belie-“

“How long?”  Eggsy cuts her off, unable to deal with her apologizes.  “How long you known Rox?  And _don’t_ lie to me.  Not again.”

 _Hours_ a part of him begs her to say.  _Let her have only known for hours, maybe days, let him have this one thing, this one boon in this whole fucked up situation.  Let Roxy not have known long, let Roxy not have betrayed him._

“Weeks.  A month at the most.”  Roxy’s voice is barely above a whisper and Eggsy’s eyes slip closed for a moment as a fresh wave of pain and betrayal washes over him.  _Of course.  Of course she’s known for weeks.  Of fucking course._

“Why didn’t you tell me Roxy?”  Eggsy asks the question even if he doesn’t really want her apologies or her reasons at the moment.  He’s not sure if he ever will.

“Merlin ordered me not to, ordered everyone not to.”  Roxy’s face is the picture of guilt.  “He was worried about you Eggsy, we both were.  I thought about telling you anyways but you were in the field and you wouldn’t come _home_.  You just took mission after mission instead and you just … wouldn’t _stop_.”

Eggsy barks out a laugh and the harsh sound of it makes Roxy flinch the slightest bit.  “You still should’ve _told me_.  You should’ve …” Eggsy scrubbed the hand holding JB’s leash over his face roughly, “ _fuck_ Roxy I had the right to know.  I would have …”

Eggsy breaks the sentence off, lets it fade away into nothing without finishing the thought.  What he doesn’t say is that he would have come back for _Harry_ , would have done _anything_ for Harry, if he’d only _known_.  If he’d been worth telling.

“I-I couldn’t tell you this while you were out there.”  Roxy raises a hand like she wants to touch him again but Eggsy slants her a look that quickly has her dropping it.  “I couldn’t tell you something like this and then leave you to handle it on your own.  I just … _couldn’t_.”

“I thought I could _trust_ _you_.”  Eggsy hates the way the words come out small and hurt despite the anger that’s crawling between his bones.  “You and Merlin.”

“You _can_ trust me Eggsy.”  Roxy takes a half step closer to him, an openly beseeching look on her face.  “I swear you can trust me _and_ Merlin.  We just … we were trying to do what we thought was right.  For you.”

Eggsy snorts, a bitter burst of noise, because no alpha in his _life_ has ever done what was _right_ for him, not really, not truly.  He’d thought that _Harry_ … but no.  In the end even what Harry had done hadn’t been for _Eggsy_.  It had all been for Lee’s ghost instead, Lee’s ghost and Harry’s _honor_.  None of it had ever been for _him_ , none of it.

Eggsy isn’t good enough for that kind of care, isn’t the type of omega alphas _keep_ or _love_.

Eggsy wants to beat his head against the nearest wall because that was a lesson he’d learned when he was little and he should have _never_ thought things would change.

Kingsman had made him soft that way he sees now, had made him _trust_ when and where he never had before.

His mistake.

“Please Eggsy.”  Roxy finally breaks the silence between them again.  “Let me fix this.  Tell me how to fix this.”

“I don’t know if you can.”  Eggsy tells her honestly and he isn’t sure who the words seem to hurt worse, him or her.

Roxy bites back a noise that sounds almost like a sob.  A traitorous, instinctive part of Eggsy wants to comfort her.  That nurturing part of him, that _omega_ part of him, sees Roxy, an _alpha_ and a _friend_ , and wants to try and give to her the care he’s only been able to fumblingly give out to a handful of others.  But Eggsy’s pain, their betrayal, is stronger than that instinct so he holds himself back and keeps to the only thing that still matters.

 _Protect_ _Daisy_.

Instead he turns on his heel and marches on towards the shuttle.

This time no one follows him.

~~~

He holds his composure as best he can until he’s in the shuttle.  Daisy is a warm and welcome weight in his lap.  She’s been relatively quiet but she has her face buried in his neck in a way that tells him she’s taking comfort from his scent.  It’s something kids normally only do with their parents but Daisy’s always been fixated on him and his scent more than she’s ever focused on Michelle.  They’ve, strangely, always been more father and daughter than brother and sister and it’s moments like this that reinforce that fact so readily.  Daisy is _his_.

His own face is buried in Daisy’s hair, his knapsack is on the seat beside him and JB is at his ankles when the shuttle shudders to a stop far too soon to have reached the tailor shop.

Eggsy immediately knows who is responsible and he has to take deep, steadying breaths to keep his calm and his silence.  In that moment he misses the lull, misses the way it had kept him even and serene, but he finds that he can’t reach for it again, not so soon.

“ _Merlin_.”  Eggsy finally speaks when the silence in the shuttle has drawn on for too long where his meager patience is concerned.  His glasses are off and in his inner jacket pocket but the shuttle has two way comms and a camera so he knows Merlin can hear him.

He’s on the verge of considering using his lighter to make a small localized explosion so he can blast the shuttle doors open and _walk_ back to Savile Row by the time Merlin answers him.

“Eggsy.”  Merlin sounds hesitant still, voice overly calm and deliberate in that way he gets under pressure.  Eggsy’s spent the past few months with Merlin’s voice in his ear and he’s become increasingly familiar with the ins and outs of his different tones.  “You should come back to the manor.  There’s things that need to be … _discussed_.”

“I don’t think there’s much needs to be done in that area.”  Eggsy keeps his voice low and calm, forever conscious of Daisy and JB.  He’d grown up with screams and snarls and yells as an ever present lullaby and he’ll be _damned_ if he’ll do that to either of his cubs.  “Few months too late there guv.”

“Lad I know you’re right pissed at us, but there’s still things you need to hear, things you need to know.”  Merlin’s voice is tinted with frustration.  Eggsy can imagine what he looks like in that moment, soft jumper creased, mouth pinched at the corners and brows drawn down tightly.  “Things about your future at Kingsman.”

“Not a knight proper am I?  Heard what you said, three spots, three trials.  Means no room for the likes o’ me.”  Eggsy breathes out a mirthless laugh and blinks back the moisture he can feel slowly beginning to bead up in the corners of his eyes.  “Not one to stay where I’m not wanted Merlin.  You know that.”

Except that isn’t exactly true.  Because Eggsy’s never really been wanted _anywhere_ and he’s had to linger more often than not on the fringes of _everything_. 

“For _fuck’s sake_.”  Merlin curses, loud and harsh enough to startle JB and make Daisy whimper against Eggsy’s throat.  Eggsy is immediately on edge as a result.  “ _I fucking told you Harry_.  I told you to have a talk with the boy but you’re an impatient fucker as _always_.”

The idea that Harry might be there, on the other side of the comms, listening to all of this is enough to completely dry the tears that had begun to pool against Eggsy’s will.  It makes him wonder just how many times Harry had stood just out of sight during Merlin’s video chats, how many missions he’d silently listened to.

How many times he’d been lied to by silence, by Merlin’s attention drifting just slightly off screen, in bitten off words and changed subjects.

“Either you let me go or I’ll blow the goddamn door.”  Eggsy is ice again, is brittle edged rage and winter’s frost.

“You wouldn’t.”  Merlin doesn’t seem all that confident, well used to the way Eggsy is willing to be just a shade off reckless at times in order to get shit done.

In response Eggsy shifts around on his seat so he can reach his free hand into his pocket and pull out a lighter.  “Fuckin _watch_ _me_.”

He could do it too he knows.  Could pack Daisy and JB behind a row of seats, set the charge, and then fold himself down over the both of them.  The kevlar weave of his suit would protect them from any heat or shrapnel as well as the force of the blast and Eggsy could muffle the noise well enough with his hands.

Merlin can’t, in all honesty, keep him in the shuttle too long against his will.  Eggsy’s too good at escaping now, a lifetime of being trapped in one way or another alongside his training has made him particularly hard to keep a hold of.

“Eggsy … _fine_.” Merlin sighs and all at once the shuttle is moving again.  Eggsy tucks his lighter back into his pocket but doesn’t relax.  He knows he won’t be able to now until he’s off the shuttle.

“I’ll give you a few days.”  Merlin tells him softly, Scottish bur in full effect in that way that makes him sound warm and soft.  “Get sorted, take care of your flower.  But then you’ve got to come in Eggsy.  You’re a Kingsman lad, don’t doubt that, don’t doubt _me_.  I wouldn’t do that to you.  You know that.”

“Do I?”  Eggsy can’t help but ask.  A part of him is surprised that Harry hasn’t butted into the conversation but another part of him isn’t.  Harry will wait if he has to, will wait to get Eggsy in just the right position before he does or say anything now that Eggsy has escaped the manor.  “I can’t say for sure.”

There’s no answer but then again Eggsy wasn’t really expecting one.

The rest of the shuttle ride passes in silence.

~~~

He’s out the shop before Dagonet can do more than take a step towards him.  With Daisy pressed close to his chest Eggsy scoops JB up under his free hand and takes off at a pace just short of a full out run.

He goes a block or two before he hails a passing cab, one he can tell at a glance is a true cab and not Kingsman issued.  He needs to put some distance between himself and everything Kingsman, everything _Harry_.

The ride is louder than the shuttle, Daisy having finally peeled herself away from him enough to move around and make noise.  Eggsy keeps one eye on their route and the cabby while he plays with her, lets her tiny sweet hands grab at his tie and his cheeks, lets her latch onto his ears and grin up at him happily.

“That’s my flower.”  Eggsy croons at her as he rubs their cheeks together.  “Pretty flower, more beautiful than a _princess_ you are Daisy-may.”

“Eggy!”  Her voice is as sweet and soft as her smell, all giggles and sunshine.  It’s a balm to his heart. 

The cabbie lets them off outside a hotel that Eggsy’s never dared step foot in before.  It’s too expensive, too high end for his tastes and he’d never have been able to afford it in the past, but now he’s got a wad of cash and a black card in his wallet that says he will.

He overpays the cabbie, settles his bag on his back, Daisy on his hip, and picks up JB’s leash.

The woman at the counter raises a perfectly arched brow and purses her lips at the sight of him, baby and dog in tow, and Eggsy’s knows she has a ‘no vacancies’ on the tip of her tongue before she takes as second look at him.

Or more accurately she looks past the bruises and the cuts on his face and focuses on the obviously expensive cut of his suit, on the silver flash of his stolen cufflinks and the luxurious silk of his tie.  It all screams _money_ and _influence_ and the fact that Eggsy makes sure to hold himself in a way that screams _confident_ and _alpha_ adds to the image.

“How may I help you?”  She all cheerful subservience when he finally steps up to her desk.  Eggsy can smell her, a sweet floral perfume overtop a warm scent like fresh bread.  Beta.

Eggsy gets a room, pays for a week in advance and arranges everything he’ll need for Daisy and JB both to be brought up to him.  It’s expensive in a way that makes his stomach curl sickly but he comforts himself with the fact that it’s not _his_ money.  It’s Kingsman’s money, part of the funds given to agents on missions that Eggsy’s been far underspending so far for months now.

He doesn’t worry about the card being traced.  He’s under no illusions that Merlin and Harry both don’t already know where he is.  The CCTV camera are, after all, at Merlin’s disposal so there’s no sense trying to hide.

All Eggsy’s interested in is distance and rest at this point.

And since he doesn’t have an actual home this will have to do.

~~~

The room is nicer than anything he’s ever stayed in before outside of the manor and Harry’s house.

He takes the time to go over the room and secure it.  It’s large with a single bed, no connecting doors, and is also situated with a window that overlooks a neighboring roof.  Perfect for an escape and still situated in a way that’s damn hard for a sniper or the likes to get the drop on him.  It’s almost instinctive now to search for such things and with Daisy with him Eggsy is even more aware than he normally is.

Overall though the room feels almost _too_ nice to Eggsy, almost too luxurious to excuse.

The knock on the door a few minutes later startles him out of his daze.

He takes the bags from the bellhop, tips him enough to make the boy’s eyes widen, and then shuts and bolts the door behind him.

He’s quick to get JB fed and watered and then to see to Daisy’s needs as well.

He strips down to his pants, hangs his suit up in the bathroom, and tries to find joy in giving Daisy a bath afterwards while JB pants happily on the cool tile floor.

The meal he’d had sent up for himself has long gone cold and forgotten by the time he has her out and dried.  She settles easily and sweetly for him into the pajamas that had been included in the bags the bellhop had handed him.  She’s yawning, obviously tired, and Eggsy finds that he agrees with her.

Sleep sounds … if not _good_ then _necessary_ at the moment.

The bed when he tests it with a hand, is too large and too soft.  For a moment all he can do is stare down at it in confusion.  He’s never slept in something so nice before, not since he’d spent his twenty-four hours with Harry.

The thought makes him wince because Harry’s followed him here too, thoughts of him interfering with even this.

Angrily Eggsy reaches out and grabs the thick comforter in his hand and yanks it free of the bed.  He’s not going to be able to sleep in such a large, posh bed in this place that’s too rich and too much for someone like him.

The closet on the other hand looks both familiar and surprisingly spacious.

It’s quick and familiar work to build a nest on the closet floor.  The comforter and pillows thicker than anything he’d ever had back at the flat.  The task is oddly soothing with its familiarity and by the time Eggsy settles down he feels … not better but perhaps not worse either.

Almost comfortable at last, closed up in the quiet and dark of the hotel room closet, Daisy in his arms and JB at his side, the events of the day finally hit him in their entirety.

Harry is _alive_.  God Harry is alive and Eggsy still _loves_ him.  Beneath the pain, beneath the betrayal and the agony, Eggsy still loves him so fucking _much_ that it _hurts_.

Eggsy still loves Harry and he’s still not the kind of omega alphas keep.

He’s still not good enough for that kind of love.

Or, apparently, a portion of that _trust_ either because Harry was alive and they’d all _lied_ to him about it for _months_.

And, with no one there to hide from, with no reason to force himself to be strong, Eggsy curls himself around his flower tightly.

 _And cries_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thoughts/questions/concerns? Feel free to tell me headcanons, to make requests of things you'd like to see or issues you'd like to be addressed. Can't guarantee I'll write them all in but you never know.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are FANTASTIC! Just the amount of passionate reviews I've received filled with death threats for Harry/Roxy/Merlin have been so so perfect and inspiring. Just ugh! I love every single one of them.
> 
> This chapter's a bit lighter as it's sort of a transition chapter for Eggsy but I hope you like it. Oh I've also embedded links to a few things which is something I've never done before but I wanted to try to see if it can add to the story. Please tell me what you guys think.
> 
> As always --> Fanmix: http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

Eggsy wakes, sweat soaked and panting, with a silent scream clawing at the back of his throat.  He swallows it down forcefully.  Months in the field, always tense and alert to danger, have cured him of his night screams even if the dreams themselves have stayed.

Daisy’s scent is heavy and heady in the air around him and despite the nightmare it makes him relax just a fraction.  For a few blissful seconds he doesn’t remember what’s happened.  His mind is fuzzy, unfocused and hazy with sleep.  But he blinks and everything that’s happened rushes back into focus and he’s forced to remember.

He whines high in his throat, a hurt, needy noise, he’d never make if he wasn’t aware that he’s alone in the closet with only Daisy.  Oh and JB who is even now nuzzling at Eggsy’s ribs with a cold nose in an attempt at comfort.  A surge of fondness runs through him for the ridiculous little creature who’d helped him save the world.

Because if it wasn’t for JB, if it wasn’t for Eggsy’s love for him, he might never have failed the test and then landed in the right place to be able to see Chester’s scar.

Eggsy stretches carefully in the confined space, smooths a hand softly down Daisy’s back and ruffles JB’s ears.  He’s not sure exactly what it was that woke him but he’s almost grateful.  Even knowing that Harry’s alive now, even knowing that it had all been a lie and he’d been betrayed, Eggsy has no desire to watch him be shot in the head _again_ if he can avoid it.

The time on his mobile is a surprise to Eggsy.  It’s just past eight in the morning and he’s slept heavy and solid for far longer than he’d thought possible.  He doesn’t generally sleep much anymore and even with the breaking of the lull and his exhaustion he hadn’t expected to stay down for so long.  Daisy too must have been calmed by being back by his side because she hadn’t woken him in the night either.

His stomach grumbles and Eggsy pushes himself up and out of the closet.  He leaves Daisy carefully cocooned in their nest on the floor with JB standing loyal guard at her side and heads for the shower.  The water’s hot to the point of boiling and it feels good on Eggsy’s skin, helps to wash away the last of the tension in his muscles as well as the sweat, blood, and dirt that still clings to him.  He doesn’t bother to get dressed again afterwards, just lets his skin, sensitive after the heat of the shower and peppered liberally with bruises, air dry with only the edge of a sheet pulled over his lap to preserve his nonexistent modesty.

He picks lightly at his uneaten dinner from the night before, a simple baked chicken with a small side salad.  He ends up eating the still soft roll and a good portion of the salad because even a day old they’re still better than most of what he’d grown up eating and he’s never been one for wasting food.  He clicks his tongue at JB and hand feeds the pug strips of the chicken breast when he waddles to his side.  Eggsy only feels a little bit of guilt that he quickly stifles when he takes the small plate of lemon-earl grey squares and puts them in the bedside drawer for later.

For a long moment he sits on the edge of the bed and stares at the way Daisy’s tiny back rises and falls with each breath.  He doesn’t want to admit it but in the wake of everything he’s at a bit of a loss as to what he should do next.

A knock at the door an unknown amount of time later makes Eggsy tense.  He’s up and has his suit trousers on in a blink.  His gun is in one hand as natural as breathing by the time he signals JB back to the closet to stand guard and softly closes the folding door.  He pressed the muzzle of his gun against the room’s door at roughly chest height before he leans forward enough to look out the peep-hole.

He’s greeted by the sight of the bellhop, surprisingly enough the same one from the night before, looking carefully blank-face and his arms loaded down with packages.  Eggsy blinks in confusion, pulls back, and unbolts the door so he can swing it open.  The hand with the gun carefully hidden behind the door but still aimed.

“Ah good morning sir.”  The bellhop gives him that polite but distant smile that most customer-service individuals learn out of sheer self-preservation.  “Sorry to disturb you so early but these arrived for you just now and the young lady who delivered them said it was urgent so I brought them up straight away.”

“Young lady?”  Eggsy asks roughly even though he has his suspicions.

“A Ms. Roxanne I believe she said her name was sir.”  The bellhop makes a small gesture with his loaded down arms.  “May I sir?”

Eggsy feels his heart squeeze at the thought of her but he pushes it aside and waves the boy inside.  He’s careful to keep his gun hidden as he steps to the side and allows the bellhop to lay his packages down across the hall table and then turn and step back outside.  Eggsy motions for him to wait a moment, shuts and locks the door, and then moves to grab his wallet that he’d left abandoned by the bedside table.  He pulls out a small stack of notes and goes back the door.

To his surprise the bellhop is already half way down the hallway towards the elevator.  Eggsy lets out a sharp whistle to get his attention and waves the boy back when he startles and turns.

“Told you to wait bruv’.”  Eggsy doesn’t care about the arched brow he gets, just hands the boy the small stack of notes.  “There’s more for you if you call up ahead of time if someone comes looking for me.”

The bellhop, eyes once again wide at the size of his tip, nods and gives Eggsy a small but shockingly sincere smile.

Eggsy waits until he’s in the elevator and the doors shut before he steps back and re-bolts the room door.  He flicks the safety on his pistol, places it gently in the drawer beside his hoarded sweets, and then pulls the closet doors open.

Daisy’s awake and she blinks up at him so sweetly that Eggsy can’t help but grin just a bit despite his split lip and croon at her as he swoops down and scoops her up.

“’ello beautiful.”  Eggsy presses a sweet kiss against the side of her neck and sways with her for a moment in the middle of the room, his trousers riding low on his hips.  “Pretty lil’flower.  Gonna grow up and blossom into a _queen_ ain’t you Daisy-may?  Gonna be better than you big bruv’, smarter too I bet.”

Eggsy hopes so, hopes she never has to make half the mistakes he’s made, or suffer half as much as he has.  He’ll make sure of it.  If it’s the _last_ thing he does he’ll make sure that her life doesn’t even touch the _shadow_ of what his has been so far.  He’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

He hums to her lightly as he goes about getting her cleaned up and changed from their long sleep.  She’s well on her way to being potty-trained thanks to her time in the mansion Eggsy knows but overnight’s still not a certain thing.  As he bustles around the room with her his humming turns to actual words.

 _♫”Hush lil’flower, don’ say a word.  Eggsy’s gonna buy you the whole wide world.”_ ♫

He’s off key and his voice is raspy but Eggsy doesn’t care.  He twirls and dances with her around the room as he sings and her face lights up and she giggles at the sound of his voice.  It’s enough to make his heart squeeze painfully with love and feel light all at the same time.

He finally gets her settled a short while later on a clean towel set on the thick soft carpet in front of the sofa.  The telly’s on and turned to one of those educational baby channels that Eggsy can’t help but marvel over for a second before he gets her a bowl of soft, dry cereal to eat on.

It’s only then that he goes to investigate the packages Roxy had apparently left for him because she’d said urgent but as far as Eggsy was concerned there wasn’t much that was more important than Daisy.

The first thing he does is take what’s obviously a suit bag and hang it from the empty poll in the closet.  Everything else he puts carefully on the bed.  The first thing he opens is a box with a new pair of oxfords, Kingsman issued of course but not scuffed and dirty like the ones he was wearing are.  He sets them to the side carefully and goes about investigating the rest.

There’s a [bag](http://financesonline.com/uploads/bag.jpg), obviously expensive and new, that’s filled with Daisy’s things, snacks and toys and the soft blanket that he’d gotten her so long ago and has managed to hang onto.  Eggsy has to suck in a sharp breath when he opens a long black box and sees the outfit nestled inside amongst the paper.  The little [dress](http://i00.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/1570901516_1/Girls-denim-font-b-dress-b-font-kids-ruffles-tiered-cake-font-b-dress-b-font.jpg), hat, and shoes are posh as _fuck_ , nicer than anything Eggsy’s ever owned outside his suits, and he can’t wait to put Daisy in them.

It’s the wide manila envelope he comes across next once he finally forces himself to stop smoothing his fingertips over the sinfully soft fabric of the dress that catches his attention.

There’s a thick bundle of cash inside, a familiar slim black wallet embossed with the Kingsman logo of course, a sheaf of papers, and another, smaller envelope with his name written across the front in Merlin’s familiar rough script.  Eggsy’s fingers spasm for just a second before he clenches his hands into fists.  He has to take a deep breath and turn to stare at Daisy for a moment before he gets himself back under control enough to open the thing without ripping it apart.

He forces his hands to be steady when he unfolds the thick paper and reads what Merlin’s taken the time to actually hand write.

_Eggsy,_

_For what it’s worth lad I am sorry.  I know you don’t want to hear that from me, from any of us, right now but it’s true.  I know I, we, have a lot to apologize for and I hope this is a step in the right direction._

_Enclosed is the card for your new, personal account.  All pay from your previous missions has been added to the balance in full.  You are also entitled to a property of your choice from the agency’s stable.  I’ve taken the liberty of vetting a few of the more appropriate properties for you to look at and have enclosed their addresses and all pertinent information.  Chose which ever strikes your fancy and it’s yours for life.  All of the properties are open and ready for you to view.  Just call when you choose and the keys will be brought to you._

_Find a home for you and your flower Eggsy,_

_Merlin_

_P.S. I told you there was a place for you here Eggsy, don’t doubt that no matter how much you doubt the rest of us, no matter how much we deserve it.  Please._

Eggsy only realizes that he’s crying again when the ink at the very bottom of the page begins to run.

He drops the letter onto the pile of other papers, sits down on the side of the too soft bed, and hunches over with his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair as he stares at the floor.  His breathing is shallow and ragged, the back of his neck feels flushed and his heart is pounding out an unsteady rhythm.

For a brief second Eggsy thinks he’s having a panic attack so he forces himself to focus, to take deep even breaths and count slowly down from a hundred.  He’s at seventy-one before his breathing evens out and twenty-six before his hands stop clenching painfully in his hair.

 _A home,_ he thinks to himself in a distant kind of awe filled way once he’s hit zero.  _They’re giving us a home._

In the background Daisy laughs and the sound is like the sun breaking through the clouds.

~~~

The first thing Eggsy notices about the [suit ](https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/556136980141338624/H_HaImgW_400x400.jpeg)beyond its rich, dark color when he opens the bag is the _smell_.  The familiarity of it hits him square in the chest with the force of a blow.

_Chocolate, brandy, thunderstorms._

Eggsy automatically knows who’s responsible for picking the thing out.

 _Harry_.

The suit smells like _Harry_ , like the bottle of aftershave Eggsy has tucked into his dirty knapsack, still only a little under half full even after months of sparse, careful, use.

For a long moment he so angry he wants to destroy it, wants to pick up his pistol and shoot it even though he knows it won’t do any damage.  He wants to set the fucking thing on _fire_.  Wants to reduce it to ash and ruin like it’s the thing that hurt him instead of just a suit.

Instead he takes it into the bathroom with him, along with the fresh still packaged pair of pants that comes in the small bag attached to the hanger, and puts the fucking thing on.  He won’t be defeated by this, by a fucking _scent_.  No matter if it is dark and seductively dangerous, no matter if it does smell like _alpha_ and _power_ and all of the things Eggsy’s _ever_ wanted.

He goes through his grooming process on autopilot and when he’s done Eggsy stares at himself in the mirror.  For the first time in a long time he really lets himself look at his reflection.  He takes in the hair he’d finally allowed to grow out so it could be styled properly.  _He’s kept it short ever since Dean had used it to drag him out of the shower and beat him almost senseless._

He looks at the newly deepened hollows of his cheeks, the more severe cut of his jawline.  He looks at the thick glasses he’d automatically put on, at the glint of familiar cuff-links he’d slipped on without a second thought and the exquisitely cut lines of the suit itself.

He _looks_ and all he sees is _Harry_.

In his grief, calmed by the lull but always present, always _eating_ at him, he’d molded himself in the man’s image.  He’d made himself anew in Harry’s likeness, had bundled together the pieces of himself he’d been able to find and filled in the cracks with everything of Harry he’d managed to hold onto.  Harry’s speech, his walk, the way he adjusted his tie and cuff-links.  Small things, little inconsequential details that Eggsy had taken in with a sharp eye and a hungry, traitorous heart.

Now, like so much in his life, it all feels like a _lie_.

Eggsy had thought he’d gotten used to hating what he sees in the mirror years ago but he’d apparently been wrong.  Now he looks in the mirror and the facsimile of Harry he’s managed to cobble together over himself like so much armor is just another injury, just another wound to nurse.

It hurts, a dull throbbing _ache_ in his chest, but Eggsy’s used to pain by now.

So used to it in fact that the glass that embeds itself into his fist when he shatters the mirror a few seconds later barely even stings.

~~~

Eggsy bandages his hand without even flinching, sweeps up the glass as best he can, and resigns himself to adding the broken mirror to his hotel tab.  He can’t help but feel slightly guilty about breaking it but it’s hardly the first time he’s fucked up.  He’ll just have to use some of his newly discovered funds to smooth any ruffled feathers.

Besides, hopefully, he won’t have to stay here long anyways.  Hopefully one of the houses on the list will be good enough for him to try and build a home for his lil’flower and himself for the first time ever.

~~~

Eggsy gets Daisy cleaned and dressed and can’t resist taking about a dozen pictures of her and JB before he finally packs up her bag.  He even puts the lemon-earl grey squares he was hoarding into one of the plastic containers inside, and makes sure all of his weapons are in place before he hefts his knapsack onto his back and grabs JB’s leash.  His old suit’s packed neatly into the suit bag and stored in the closet but besides that he has everything he came with and then some on him when he locks the room door and heads out.

The beta behind the desk looks vaguely shocked at how well Daisy and he both clean up but Eggsy just nods at her and steps outside.  The streets are bustling, not as full as they once would have been before V-Day but still full enough.  As it is he slips the doorman, an older alpha with a mate-bond scent that smells of scones and lemon, a bit of money and waits patiently for a cab.

Eggsy has a plan in mind, an outline of sorts as to how he wants to spend the next couple of days, but first he has a list of properties to check out before he can go about doing anything else.

Harry, Roxy, Merlin, and all that comes with them can wait for a while.  For now Eggsy has more important things to do, things that line up with his _prime_ _directive_ sort to speak.

_Protect Daisy._

~~~

The first three properties are a bust for a number of reasons.

The first is too small, only one bedroom and an open floorplan.  Eggsy’s a bit surprised that it made it onto Merlin’s list when the man’s normally so much more demanding and exact.

The second is better but not right either.  It’s a brownstone and there’s no yard, no sense of separation, and Eggsy wants that, for himself as well as Daisy now that he has the chance to choose.  He wants her to have all of the things he never did growing up.

Eggsy doesn’t even get out of the cab on the third.  It’s large for an inner city home but Eggsy doesn’t like the school system in the area when he looks it up or the alpha who leers at him from the doorway next to the place.

He stops for a late lunch at a small open air café.  He buys Daisy a decedent fruit crepe that he coaxes her to eat bite by bite while he drinks tea and picks at one of the lemon squares he unpacks from her bag.  JB pants at his heels and Eggsy pets him with bemused fondness and resolves to be more careful about his diet.

The address of the fourth listing makes his breath catch in his throat and his hands clench painfully around the edge of the table because he recognizes the area it's located in.

It’s dangerously close to _Harry’s_ _house_.

Eggsy decides not to skip over it but he does decide to hate it on principle alone before he even gets in the cab to head in that direction.

Only once he gets there and punches the code into the glorified realtor’s lock Eggsy finds that he can’t hate it because it’s …

“ _Perfect_.”  He can’t help but mumble to himself.  It’s fucking _perfect_.  _Goddamn_ _Merlin_.  Goddamn him to _hell_.

The house is larger than the rest, three bedrooms, two baths and a study as well as dining and living rooms and an open, airy kitchen that makes Eggsy’s hands _itch_ to cook.  There’s even a small courtyard in the back, fenced in with thick wrought iron and perfect for JB and Daisy both to play and grow in.

It’s everything Eggsy’s ever wanted in his wildest dreams and everything he’d been so sure he’d _never_ be able to have.

But it’s so close, _too_ _close_ , to _Harry_ and the thought of being so close to the alpha, the man, that he lo-

Well the idea is terrible, it _hurts_ , it’s absolutely the _last_ thing Eggsy wants to deal with every day.

 _And_ _yet_ …

Eggsy looks down at Daisy in his arms, at JB at his feet.  He thinks about his lil’flower growing up here in this beautiful, _safe_ place.  Thinks about both of his pups rolling in sweet grass, thinks of filling this house with soft chairs and thick blankets, with food and warmth and _love_.  He thinks about the future he could build here with his own two hands.

He thinks of the flat he’d grown up in.  Of the screams and snarls, of the scent of clove cigarettes and the starburst pain of Dean’s fists.  Of Michelle’s vacant stare and every alpha who’d _bought_ and _paid_ for him.

That possible future for her is worth more than _anything_ it might cost him in the long run.

_Protect Daisy._

Eggsy makes the call.

~~~

An unfamiliar voice answers on the other end but when Eggsy gives his name and the address he’s assured that the keys will be with him in the hour and that he’s welcome to stay there and wait.

He takes the time to wonder the house again, to take Daisy out to the back and spin circles with her in the thick green grass as JB dances around them and barks.

The woman, Helena, who delivers the key is older than Eggsy and an omega as well.  There’s recognition in her eyes that Eggsy doesn’t understand when she looks at him but he brushes it aside as she assures him that he has the only copies to the keys to the house and shows him how to set the alarm with a new personalized code.  The house is also Kingsman retrofitted she informs him and then proceeds to show him the false walls where he can hide weapons and the reinforced panic room in the second floor hallway.

Helena makes him sign a ton of paperwork, tells him that the utilities are all currently connected and workable in preparation for his arrival today and that he’s free to move in anytime now because the place is _his_.

When she leaves she takes the realtor’s lock with her and leaves Eggsy standing in the middle of _his_ empty entry hall, Daisy on his hip, keys in hand, and completely _lost_.

~~~

Eggsy wonders through the house for a bit longer, still more than a little shell-shocked at how easily it had all gone.  He can scarcely believe that the house is _his_ , that the papers he’d signed means it’s all his but it comes to him in bits and pieces.

Finally Eggsy realizes that he has a _house_ , and more importantly he has an _empty_ _house_.

That is, he decides, something that has to be fixed.

The first thing he does is drop his knapsack carefully in the closet of the master bedroom, a room that’s almost as big as the flat he’d grown up in.  The next thing he does is pull the card Merlin had enclosed with his letter out and grab his mobile so he can check his balance.  It’s something he’s not dealt with much in the past but luckily it’s a Kingsman controlled bank and they’re able to reroute his call easily enough and help him out.

The sum they list off to him is … _staggering_.

Eggsy sits down hard in the middle of the floor once he’s ended the call, eyes wide and mouth slack as he clutches at Daisy.  He’d known that Kingsman paid well but he’d never thought …

He’s never even had a _fraction_ of that kind of money, has always scrimped and saved and fucking _whored_ for every bit of quid he’s ever had, and now … now he’s got more than he knows what to do with.

Eggsy laughs out loud and once he starts he finds it hard to stop even when it takes on a slightly hysterical edge.

He has a _house_ and he has enough money to make it into a fucking _home_ for his lil’flower.

Eggsy doesn’t know whether to be happy or to possibly _shoot_ himself because he has to be fucking _dreaming_ and if so he needs to wake up now before he decides to never wake up at all.

~~~

All but a few of the snacks in Daisy’s bag are carefully stored away in the otherwise bare cabinets and the empty refrigerator in the kitchen now that he doesn’t have to lug everything around with him.  JB is settled in the kitchen with an empty cereal container filled with water and a fond pat and then Eggsy is off again.  The pug needs a bit of rest and Eggsy’s happy to give it to him as he takes off walking towards the corner of his new street with Daisy settled on his hip.

They get a cab back to the hotel he was staying at where he gathers his old suit and settles the matter of the mirror as well as his early check-out.  He also over tips the helpful bellhop again once he gets the boy to agree to run the suit down to the Kingsman tailor shop and to give it to the man behind the desk along with his name.  Dagonet will see that it’s dry cleaned as he does all the other kevlar weave suits and returned.

All of that settled Eggsy gets back into his waiting cab and sets off to his next desitination.  He has a house to outfit and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to do without help.

He knows just where to go to get it too.

~~~

“Eggsy!”  Ryan latches onto him as soon as the door to his flat opens and Eggsy forces himself not to stiffen out of habit at the friendly embrace.  Jamal grins at him over Ryan’s shoulder and something small and tight in Eggsy’s stomach unwinds at the sight of the two of them.  They’d kept in touch as best as possible in the past few months with sporadic phone calls and texts and Eggsy’s sent them money when he could.  They’d protested but he hadn’t cared because he was far under budget on mission expenses anyways and whatever cash he had on him that they could use would help them far more than him.

“Look at you bruv’.”  Jamal chirps cheerfully but Eggsy can see a hint of worry in his eyes and the way they take in the bruises and split lip.  “All shined up but still scrappy lookin.  We’ve missed you mate.”

“Same bruv, same.”  Eggsy smiles as Daisy waves and holds out her hands to Jamal.  He hands her over to the beta without any hesitation.  Jamal takes her easily and settles her against him in a move that looks second nature.

“Oi!  Look at the flower.”  Ryan reaches out and tweaks her nose gently.  “Looks like a princess she does, all posh and perfect.”

“That’s cause she _is_ a princess.”  Eggsy can’t help but boast as he reaches over and straightens her little hat.  “Gonna be a _queen_ one day, swear down.”

“Good to see you mate.”  Jamal tells him more seriously a half hour or so later once they’ve had a chance to coo over Daisy and settle down a bit.  Ryan hums an agreement from where he’s bouncing her on his knee, careful not to get her dress dirty.  “Thought you was gone for good we did.  Got that fancy job now, figured you’d be well done with this place.”

“Yeah.”  Eggsy agrees.  “Done with this _place_ , but not you two.  _Never_ you two.”

Because Eggsy doesn’t _leave_ and he doesn’t _abandon_.  Ryan and Jamal have been beside him for years now and he refuses to lose them now.  Not when he already isn’t sure who to trust in his new life.  They’re _his_.

“Got your back Eggsy.”  Ryan tells him softly in response.  “You and the flower.  Always have, always will.  Swear down.”

“Good.”  Eggsy grins then and it feels natural for the first time in longer than he likes to think.  His emotions are raw and vulnerable without the buffer of the lull but he very carefully keeps his focus forward and avoids thinking about what’s led him up to this point.  “Be needing your help actually.”

“Name it.”  Jamal agrees for the both of them, like it’s just that easy.

And with them Eggsy knows that it is.

~~~

It takes two days to outfit the house with their help.  Eggsy spends more money than any of them have ever seen and actually gets _sick_ once because of the panic of spending so much.

Ryan and Jamal are with him the entire time.  They help him buy everything from a sinfully soft sofa for the living room to a sweet wicker furniture set for Daisy’s room.  They even pressure him into getting the largest bed he’s ever _seen_ for himself even though he’s not sure if he’ll ever be comfortable sleeping in it instead of his closet.

Eggsy concentrates on getting the essentials for the house first and then on getting Daisy basically anything that catches her eye for longer than a second.  Toys, books, clothes, anything and everything she might need.  He even buys JB a bed that’s softer than most of the bed’s Eggsy’s been around in his life and a set of matching [food dishes](http://barkpost.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/Wood-Burned-Dog-Bowls.jpg).

The kitchen is the one room that he absolutely _relishes_ outfitting and he goes a bit overboard when it comes to buying food.  Even if he doesn’t really eat much anymore he wants to have everything Daisy could ever want on hand if at all possible.

At first, beyond that, there isn’t anything he really wants for himself.  He’s uncomfortable with the thought of buying stuff for himself, feels guilty and greedy when he does.  The only time he’s ever really spent money on himself was for some of the clothes he’d had before Kingsman.  That had mainly happened because being half decently dressed actually helped him to _earn_ more money in the long run believe it or not.

But Eggsy finds himself _stuck_ on things, finds himself yearning for things he’s never had before, specifically _soft_ things.  He’s not sure if it’s some previously repressed omega instinct or just a part of himself he’s never felt before but he finds himself captivated by _softness_.  He buys a bedspread for his new bed because it’s the softest blanket he’s ever felt in his _life_.  He picks out thick green towels because they’re downright sinfully soft against his skin.  He hovers around a large area rug that’s easily an inch thick and perfect for the living room until Ryan nudges him to the side and calls for the sales person.

And once Jamal and Ryan catch onto what captures his attention, they connive together and force him into buying more.  He gets soft wool trousers and thick jumpers.  They bully him into a pea-coat and then a plush lounging robe in deep green.

They spend the evenings of the two days setting up everything as it gets delivered.  They eat pizza and take turns playing with JB and Daisy as they move furniture and lay rugs and generally set the house up.  It’s like something out of a movie, like one of those montages that happened in 80’s films only with dishes and a coat rack instead of dresses and shoes.

It’s … _perfect_.

Which of course is the reason it all goes to _hell_.

Because despite everything there’s one particular loose end that Eggsy hasn’t so much _forgotten_ as he has been _avoiding_ and now that he’s got the house set up he can’t avoid it any longer.

 _Michelle_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thoughts/questions/concerns?
> 
> Feel free to tell me head-canons, to make requests of things you'd like to see or issues you'd like to be addressed. Can't guarantee I'll write them all in but you never know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again you guys are beyond awesome. I absolutely love your reviews and all of the emotions in them.
> 
> Okay on a serious note though I'd like to preface this chapter by saying that I don't hate Michelle and that there's a longer author's note at the end.

It takes Eggsy another day to decide what to do about Michelle.

He spends that night and much of the next morning catching up with Ryan and Jamal and deciding just how he wants to go about everything.  Including what he wants to do with the two of them.

Jamal and Ryan both have jobs now.  There’d been a lot of open positions after V-Day and people desperate for help who’d hired where they normally never would have before.  But still it isn’t enough for Eggsy.

Eggsy wants them out of the estates, wants them _safe_ , wants them _happy_.

They’re _his_ after all and he wants them cared for.

“How’d you two feel about living together?”  Eggsy asks them over leftovers and tea that afternoon.  “With us?”

“What? Like here?”  Ryan arches a brow.  “Bit too rich for my taste bruv.”

“Same.”  Jamal nods.  “Plus you need the extra room for you mum.”

“I could double with Daisy.”  Eggsy shrugs.  It might be inconvenient when it came to Kingsman business but he’d handle it.  He’s lived in and through worst circumstances after all.  “Don’t mind it yeah?  Been living with her since the start.  Don’t want you two back at the estates.  Not safe there as is, liable to get more so soon.”

“Na bruv’, no need for all that.”  Ryan waves him off.  “Got jobs now, gonna get out on our own.”

“How’s ‘bout a flat for the two of you?”  Eggsy perks up at the thought because it’s one he likes.  Jamal and Ryan living together, somewhere safe and warm and good for them.  “Two bedrooms kind of place, somewhere above the trash heap we grew up in?”

“Oi, said we got jobs not that we struck it rich.”  Jamal tosses a chip at him.  Eggsy catches it in his mouth in a move that makes all three of them grin just like it had the first time he’d done it when they were nine or so.

“Why you got me innit?”  Eggsy snorts and rolls his eyes because honestly how could they think any different.  “We’ll find you a place and I’ll go splits on the rent.”

“Eggsy, mate, you ain’t got to do that.”  There’s something like awe in Ryan’s voice again just like there’d been the day Eggsy’d come back after V-Day and they’d realized he’d saved them by getting Roxy to call.

“We family right?”  Eggsy waits until they both nod at him and grins again.  “Least I can do.  You’ll just have to watch my lil’flower every once in a while when I travel.  Don’t want her to forget her uncles.”

“Nah, wouldn’t want that to happen.”  Jamal croaks out as he tries to subtly scrub at his face.

Eggsy doesn’t call him on it because by this point there’s tears in all three of their eyes.

But they’re also smiling and that’s what really matters. 

~~~

Eggsy dresses like he’s girding himself for a battle, like he’s been handed a new mission and caution’s been advised.

He slips into his suit carefully.  It’s the same dark one he’d sent back to the tailor’s for cleaning by way of the bellhop.  It’d been returned this morning in the back of a Kingsman cab with a note from Dagonet stating that he has a few more suits for Eggsy that are currently in production.  The news had sent a small flush of pleasure through Eggsy because it’s one more piece of proof that he really does have a future with Kingsman.  The large crate filled with various munitions for his private collection Dagonet had included had caused that warmth to blossom into a kind of quiet and shy joy.  He’d been forced to sneak it into the house and up to his study without waking Ryan and Jamal who’d passed out on his plush living room carpet.

He doesn’t let himself focus on those thoughts for too long though.  He still has a few days before he’ll be forced to report back to HQ and he intends to take advantage of what little reprieve he has.  He’s under no illusions about how easy things will be once he’s back at the manor.  He’ll only be able to avoid Harry, Merlin, and Roxy for so long, if at all.

The three of them aren’t the type to give up and he’s frankly surprised they’ve went so long without interfering more than they already have.  He needs to handle this thing with Michelle as soon as possible because he can’t have it hanging over his head as well.

So he gets dressed with deliberate care and tries not to think about it when his hands automatically reach for Harry’s cuff-links.  He has a brief fantasy of throwing them away, of flushing them down the drain or throwing them in the bin, but he can’t do it.  They’re one more part of the lie he’d built up around himself in Harry’s honor but they’ve also become a part of him in some ways.  A part of his armor.

He leaves them in the case he always puts them in when he takes them off and reaches for his glasses instead.  He doesn’t feel right without them anymore, doesn’t feel complete if he’s all suited up and not wearing them. 

For a brief second he misses Merlin’s voice in his ear, misses the steady sort of confidence that the alpha brought with him whenever he oversees one of Eggsy’s ops.  And this feels so much like a mission that he feels adrift without Merlin’s Scottish bur giving him orders, without his dead-pan comments and smooth instructions.

He pushes the thought away with a spiteful hand and tightens his grip on the handle of the rainmaker in his hand.  It does little to help reassure him though.

Still he can’t help but linger by the door as he nervously smooths a hand down the lapel of his suit and adjusts his glasses yet again.

Ryan and Jamal, awake but still rumpled from their late night, watch him quietly from their spot in his entry hall.  Eggsy knows he needs to stop stalling and leave.  Daisy’s playing just in the living room, happy and content with JB standing guard; it’s a perfect time to go.

And yet …

“We’ve got the flower, and you fat arse dog mate.  Go handle business yeah?”  Ryan tells him softly as he reaches out and cups Eggsy’s shoulder in the palm of his hand.  The move is slow and deliberate, telegraphed and gentle in that way Ryan and Jamal always are with him because they know him _so_ _well_.

They know why he flinches sometimes when they touch him and they know why he gets a little bit shifty every time it rains.  They know a million other things about him too and most of all they know what buttons they can and cannot push.  And just like they know so many things about him Eggsy knows an equal number in return.  He knows why Ryan’s scared of fire and why Jamal’s been taking showers for years now and won’t step foot in water that goes past his ankles.

It’s a closeness that comes from living in each other’s pockets for so long.  It’s an awareness of each other that was bought and bartered in blood, pain, and secrets as well as laughter and joy.

Eggsy’s not the only one with demons after all and the estates can be so _cruel_.

Those demons, those horrible secrets, are one of the reasons he trusts them so much.  Because they’ve fought together and separately, have bled alone and for each other, and they’ve never betrayed one another.  _Never_.

“You’ll watch her?”  Eggsy can’t help but ask even though he already knows the answer.  He just needs to hear it again.

“Of course bruv’.”  Jamal winks at him.  “Keep the flower safe with our _lives_ Eggsy, you know that mate.”

Unlike everyone else in Eggsy’s life Ryan and Jamal have been steadfast in their loyalty.

And now, with this newest issue on the horizon, it’s a comfort of sorts to know that he still has them.

So, with one last look at the only beta’s he could ever want or need even if he isn’t an _alpha_ , Eggsy turns on his heel and heads out to find his mum.

~~~

He goes to the flat first.

It’s … _strange_ being back there after so long away.  Stranger than it had been the last time he’d come crawling back after he’d failed the dog test.  This time it feels different and Eggsy isn’t really sure _why_.

Maybe it’s because he’s dressed to the nines now, or because he’s got a body count that totals in the hundreds and no real hesitation when it comes to seeing it _grow_.

Maybe it’s because, for the first time, he’s back of his own accord, back because he wants to be and not because he doesn’t have a choice.

Maybe it’s because this time he’s straight backed and _proud_ instead of the slinking tucked-tailed _omega_ he was the last time.

Either way Eggsy climbs the stairs quickly and raps the handle of the umbrella on the door three times in rapid succession.  He waits a beat but there’s no answer and when he presses his ear against the door there’s no sound of life or movement inside either.

The door’s locked when he tries the knob but Eggsy just slips a hand inside his jacket’s inner pocket, pulls out his wallet, and goes for the slender silver card tucked inside it.  He presses it against the key hole, feels the way it warms slightly when he presses the banking logo and the tiny mechanical arms hidden inside it begin to whirl.  Within seconds there’s a faint click and the door’s open.

Eggsy could have picked the thing himself with a little bit of time and the right tools but what’s the use of having Kingsman tech if he doesn’t use it.

The flat’s a wreck, beer bottles and old take-away containers layered over everything.  It looks almost abandoned but Dean’s musty odor is fresh and thick in the air and so is Michelle’s lighter, sweeter omega scent.  One of her lacy bras hangs from the bathroom doorknob and a pair of her pumps are abandoned by the couch.

Eggsy can tell that there’s no one in the flat at the moment but he feels a rush of relief at all the small signs that Michelle is still alive and functioning despite the reassurances Ryan and Jamal had given him earlier.

He takes a moment to look around, takes in the scent and sight of the place, and can’t help but wonder if it would have still looked this bad if Michelle had still had Daisy.  Would she have let the place go to rot like this if his lil’flower was still here?  Would she have done what needed to be done for Daisy without Eggsy there to watch the both of them?

Those are questions that Eggsy isn’t sure he truly wants the answers to.

For a brief second he thinks about going to his old room and clearing out the rest of his things but he pushes the thought aside.

Instead he turns on his heel, flicks the lock on the door, and pulls it closed behind him as he steps back onto the walkway.

There’s nothing he wants from this place.

There never was.

~~~

Eggsy has to take a deep breath when he finds himself outside the Black Prince.  He’s not been back to the pub in forever and the place looks relatively unchanged, the damage done to it on V-Day obviously repaired.  He wonders how many people died inside, wonders how many more bodies Dean and his thugs had put into the ground.

He realizes abruptly that he’s stalling again because he’s _nervous_ and the very idea makes him want to laugh.  For a brief moment he considers reaching for the lull again, thinks about pulling that calm blanket back over him and sinking down beneath its icy waters.  He bites the urge down though because he _wants_ this moment, wants to experience it and all of his emotions fully and freely.

So he pushes the door open instead.

The first thing he hears is Dean snarling at Michelle to turn down the song that’s playing.

“I rather like that song,” Eggsy says softly, because he’s always appreciated irony and having _Slave to Love_ playing in the background right now certainly qualifies, “leave it on eh Mum?”

“Muggsy’s back.”  Dean snarks and Eggsy’s almost proud of the way the alpha’s voice rolls off his back.

He lets Dean’s meaningless bullshit roll off his spine, lets it flow over him like so much water for the most part, and keeps his attention focused firmly on Michelle.

“I know a bloke who’s just taken over a tailor’s shop on Savile Row.”  Eggsy keeps his gaze steady on Michelle and wills her to understand what he’s saying, to _listen_ to him.  She looks good for once, looks clean and more sober than he’s seen her in years, but it doesn’t really matter because she’s fooled him before.  “He’s given me a job Mum.  It comes with a _lot_ of perks.  Including a house.”

Michelle’s eyes go wide with wonder and Eggsy can’t help the small smile that curls its way across his mouth.

“Come and live with me there Mum.”  Eggsy reaches out a hand towards her then.  For a split second he feels like a child again, like he’s small and scared and desperate for his mum to hold his hand and tell him there’s nothing hiding in the dark corners of his room.  “Come on.”

To his surprise she actually goes to stand and for one moment Eggsy thinks that’s it.  He’s _finally_ _won_.  She’s finally ready and willing to leave Dean, to get out from underneath that bastard’s thumb once and for all.

But when Dean tells her to _stop_ she _does_ and Eggsy knows he’s _wrong_.

Because it couldn’t be that easy.  _Nothing_ can ever be that easy.

Dean’s on his feet then, all cloying musk and puffed up chest, just as much a bully as he’s ever been, especially with his piss-ant goons at his back.

For a moment Eggsy wavers, thinks about turning, thinks about leaving and maybe finding a different way of dealing with this all.  He thinks about how he would have reacted before … before he’d been lied to, before he’d found out that Harry was alive and well.  He probably would have done something stupid and flashy, maybe would have turned and locked the pub doors and reenacted the _manners maketh man_ scene in some sort of homage to Harry.

Now the idea falls flat, tastes sour and burnt in the back of his mouth.

But then Dean speaks again and it all goes to hell.

“Oi!  I want the baby back too you little fuck.”  Dean sneers and something inside of Eggsy goes still and deathly quiet.  “She’s my fuckin kid, ain’t got no right to keep her from me.”

“He’s right babes.”  Michelle chimes in and it’s all Eggsy can do not to clench his eyes closed in grief.  “Ain’t seen you or her in months, not right it ain’t, you keepin her from her mum and daddy like that.”

“Daisy,” Eggsy starts off slowly, serenely, “is _mine_.”

“Fucking _hell_ she is!”  Dean roars as he steps forward, Rottie on his heels and Poodle coming around the other side.  “Lil’ brat’s _mine_ and I want her back you lil’ fuck.  You’ll tell me where she is if I gotta _beat_ it outta ya.”

No, Eggsy _won’t_.

Because he’ll _never_ take another one of Dean’s beatings.  He’ll never let another one of his goons lay a _finger_ on him.  And he sure as _fuck_ won’t let the bastard get anywhere near Daisy.

Not again.

 _Never_ again.

“Come with me Mum,” Eggsy tries again, “come live with me and Daisy.  Get away from _this_ , from _him_.  I’ll keep you safe.”

“You gonna keep her safe?”  Dean laughs at him, face red and ugly with spite.  “You couldn’ keep yourself safe _boy_.  How you gonna take care of her and the brat huh?  Still suckin cock at night for spare quid?  Got you some rich ol’ fucker to play the tart for?  Some knot with a wallet who likes a bit o’rough?  Posh ol’cock desperate for an omega whore?”    

“Don’t _ever_ call me that _again_.”  Because Eggsy might be an omega, and he might be a fucking whore, but Dean has no right to call him out for either.  No right at all.

“Why not?”  Dean sneers out another rough laugh and this time it’s echoed by the others.  “Is all you’s ever been good for yeah?  Being a lil’ _omega_ _whore_.  Good thing you _liked_ it so much.”

The words break over Eggsy like a wave and he doesn’t so much _snap_ as he does _shiver_.

The icy rage that’s such a large part of him rushes upwards like a sea surge and tints his vision a sort of arctic blue with fury.  He flows forward across the space between them and slams the curved handle of the rainmaker across Dean’s face with a sickening thud.

The alpha goes down but Eggsy doesn’t stop, can’t stop.  There are other threats present and Michelle is vulnerable so they have to be taken _down_.  Months of dealing death and destruction have him too well trained, too well honed, to do anything less.

He takes down Rottie next because he knows that he’s the one who carries the pistol in this group.  He slides across the floor and takes his legs out from underneath him with a vicious kick to the kneecap.  Eggsy hears something crack, Rottie screams high and agonized, but all Eggsy does is flip back onto his feet and go for Poodle next because he hits the hardest and Eggsy’s got more than one scar that needs to be repaid.

Once these men had beaten him down, had taken everything from him he had to give and then still asked for more.  Once these men had been everything dark and frightening in his life and his nightmares.

Once, but no longer.

Now _Eggsy_ is the strong one.

He doesn’t kill them, he _wants_ to but he doesn’t for a number of reasons.  What he does do is put them all down _hard_.  Then he does what he was trained to do and makes sure that they don’t get back up with well-placed stomps and the crunch of bone beneath his heels.  He lets them live but they’ll _never_ be the same, will never heal right from what he’s done to them.

Eggsy doesn’t _care_.

Every hit, every broken bone and scream of pain is like oxygen to Eggsy.  Like water after a long drought, like sweet mercy and vengeance all rolled into one.  Every time he lands a blow he can’t help but think ‘ _this is for Daisy’,_ and _‘this is so you’ll never touch her’_ or even, _‘this is so you’ll never make her into what you made me’_.

Because he hadn’t liked it, hadn’t liked any of the things they’d made him do or Dean had sold him for.  He _hadn’t_.  He’d been _forced_ to do it and then later it had been a _necessity_.  He hadn’t liked _any_ of it.  _He_ _hadn’t_.

He _swears_ he hadn’t.

He’d just never really had a choice.

Finally he stands tall and calm in the center of a mass of sprawled bodies.  He’s not even winded, has barely even begun to show what he’s capable of if he’s being honest, and they’re all done already.

 _Pathetic_.

“What’ve you done?”  Michelle’s shaken whimper breaks him out of his thoughts and Eggsy turns around slowly to face her.  She’s huddled in on herself beside on of the tables, face ashen, make-up smeared from tears and mascara running down her cheeks.

“Mum.”  Eggsy holds his hand out towards her again as he moves carefully in her direction.  “It’s safe now Mum, come on out and we can go.  I’ll keep you safe now Mum, like Da always told me to.  Like he was supposed to.”

“You’re not him.”  Michelle whispers so low that Eggsy isn’t sure he’s actually heard her right.  “You’re not _Lee_.”  Michelle’s voice is stronger then, louder, but it breaks on Lee’s name like she can barely stand to say it.  “You’re _not_.

“I know Mum.”  Eggsy’s not Lee, he’s not his strong alpha father with his warm coffee scent that Eggsy just barely remembers anymore.  “I’m Eggsy, your _son_.”

 It’s like the words flip a switch of some kind in Michelle because she comes alive then, flushes a deep almost angry pink and stumbles to her feet.

The anger in her eyes takes Eggsy aback.

“ _You’re_ _not_ _Lee_!” Michelle screams, voice hoarse from too much smoke and too much drink over the years.  “You’re not.  Lee wasn’t like _this_.”

The way she waves her hands and gestures towards him and the destruction he’s wrought strikes Eggsy so deeply that he takes a half step back and away from her.

“Lee was better than this.”  Michelle insists and Eggsy realizes that she’s latched onto the idea, the subject, as a life line of sorts.  “I thought you was too Eggsy.”

“Mum please.”  Eggsy’s pleading with her then, desperate for her to not do this, to not do what he just _knows_ she’s about to do.  To not say anything that will never be able to be taken back between them.  “Mum don’t do this.  Dean’s not worth this.”

“Dean’s a good man.”  Michelle’s eyes are wild and bloodshot and Eggsy wants to stop the words pouring out of her mouth.  He wants to dam them up so he never has to hear them.  “He’s always taken care of us Eggsy.  I can’t leave him.  He’s my husband.”

“ _He fuckin sold me, Mum_.”  Eggsy screams it at her, throws the truth in her face like a dare.  “ _He_ _tried_ _to_ _sell_ _Daisy_.”

The crack of her palm against his face is strong enough to make his head turn.

Eggsy stands there in the silence that falls after her slap, stands there and just _breathes_.  She’s never hit him before, never touched him like that in all of their years together.  He’d never thought she would, especially not over _Dean_.

“Don’t say things like that about him.”  Michelle whispers.  She looks desperate and somehow small now to Eggsy, shrunken and wasted away for all that she’s still a beautiful woman.  “ _He’s_ _my_ _good_ _man_.”

“No Mum, _Da_ was your good man.”  Eggsy speaks softly as he raises a hand and cups his cheek in his palm.  His skin’s slightly warm from the heat of her blow.  It doesn’t hurt, not really, except for how it feels as if he’s been _gutted_.  “Da was _good_ but I’m _fucking_ _better_ because I’m _alive_.  I’m _alive_ and in all these years you’ve never even _fucking_ _noticed_.”

It’s the truth too Eggsy realizes then.  In all of the years they’d lived together under Dean’s thumb, in all of the years filled with beatings and pain, she’d stopped really looking at him somewhere along the way.  He didn’t know if it was self-preservation or the drugs or just how she was, but somewhere along the way he’d just become … _unimportant_.

Somewhere along the way he’d become just another shadow to her, just a ghost of Lee and what could have been.

“He’s dead and I’m never going to be him.”  Eggsy stares her directly in the eyes and feels nothing at the way her face crumples in on itself.  “I’m _never_ going to be good enough for you am I?  Because he’s _dead_ and I’m not him.”

There’s a quiet kind of venom in his voice and Eggsy hates it.  _He hates it so much_.  Because … because there’d been moments in his past that he doesn’t like to remember, snippets in time where he’d almost _hated_ her too and he … he doesn’t want to face that part of himself, doesn’t want that to become his truth.

Not even now, not even after this.  He doesn’t want to carry that hate too, doesn’t want to sit and watch it twist him up inside even further than he already is.  He doesn’t want to know what kind of new, malformed creature that hate would make him into.

He isn’t Lee but he isn’t Dean either.  He’s just _Eggsy_ and Eggsy’s _never_ been enough for anyone.

“ _Leave_.”  Michelle isn’t looking at him anymore.  Instead she’s curled in on herself, arms wrapped around herself tightly but jaw clenched and stubborn.  “Get out Eggsy.”

He doesn’t have the lull to protect him at the moment but Eggsy feels _numb_ all the same.

A pained groan catches his attention and Eggsy’s scrutiny shifts smoothly and focuses in on where Dean’s sprawled out on the floor instantly.  The alpha’s bleeding from the nose as well as the mouth and his jaw’s distended.  Eggsy takes great pleasure in knowing that it’s more than likely horribly broken.

He likes the way Dean’s eyes widen in a mix of terror and anger when he strolls in his direction even more.

Eggsy drops down on top of Dean without any hesitation.  Pins the man’s hands down by his hips and then keeps them there by grinding his kneecaps into the delicate bones.  He watches Dean writhe beneath him for a moment with a sort of cruel yet dispassionate glee.  Then Eggsy reaches up and wraps his hand around Dean’s broken jaw almost tenderly.

And _squeezes_.

“I’m going to talk very, very clearly now and you’re going to listen to every word I have to say.”  Eggsy deliberately smothers his accent, makes his words come out as sharp and clear as possible.  “Do you understand?  Blink one for yes, two for no.”

Dean squeezes his tear filled eyes closed once, hard.

“Good.”  Eggsy grins and he knows the expression is all teeth and cruelty.  “Daisy is _mine_.  Do you understand?”

Dean blinks once.

“Good, good.”  Eggsy says with false lightness in his voice before he allows his face to go blank and terrible.  “You will never see her again.  You will not look for her or for me.  You will forget she _exists_.  You will never lay hands on Michelle again.  You will do your best to make _me_ forget _you_ exist.  If you don’t do these things, if I hear a _whisper_ of you looking for me or for Daisy, if something happens to Michelle that I even _suspect_ comes back to you, I will come for you.  I _will_ find you.  I _will_ kill you.  And Dean?  I will make it _hurt_.  Do you understand?”

Dean stares up at him, horror and terror in his eyes before he blinks once again quickly.  Eggsy grins again and all of a sudden he can smell _piss_ and he can’t help the way his mouth curls upwards in disgust.

“I might be an _omega_ ,” Eggsy practically croons at Dean as he squeezes his jaw one last time and then pushes himself up onto his feet to hover over the alpha, “and I might have been a _whore_ , but look at you now Dean.  _Look_ _at_ _you_ _now_.”

Eggsy straightens out his jacket, purposefully avoids looking at Michelle, and turns to head to the counter where the barkeep’s still huddled.  He reaches his free hand into his jacket, pulls out his wallet, grabs a small stack of cash, and then puts his wallet back.

“You’ve always been the decent sort, was never cruel to me or mine.”  Eggsy reaches out and, ignoring the way the man actually flinches from him, pries the man’s hand open so he can stuff the money inside.  “Sorry about the mess guv’, hope this makes up for it.”

Eggsy turns and walks out of the Black Prince, his steps even and his shoulders straight.

He tries to ignore the way it feels as if he’s lost a parent all over again.

The truth of the matter is he’s been an orphan since Lee died anyways.

Now it just feels more official.

~~~

Eggsy hails a cab a block or so away from the pub.  He gives the cabbie his address and then leans forward and buries his face in his hands.  His fingers knock his glasses askew but he doesn’t care.

He’s hot, flushed and shaking, by the time the first sob manages to weasel its way out from between his teeth.

He tries to choke it back, tries to swallow the sounds down but he finds that he can’t.  Not even the fact that the cabbie would more than likely be able to hear him has any effect.  Finally he just shoves the side of his still bandaged hand between his teeth and bites down in the hopes that the pain will distract him.

It doesn’t.

Instead he finds himself gasping for breath.  He feels like the cab’s suddenly too small, like there’s no air to be found, like the entire world around him is spinning on its axis.  There are spots gathering at the corners of his vision because he can’t get enough air.

He can’t _breathe_.

He _can’t_ breathe.

_He can’t breathe._

“Breathe Eggsy.”  There's a voice in his ear all of a sudden, its tone soothing and calm.  And above all else familiar.  “Just breathe lad.  Out one, two.  In one, two.  Do it with me Eggsy, follow my breathing.  Out one, two.  In one, two.”

Eggsy forces himself to listen to Merlin’s coaching, to follow the steady pattern of inhale/exhale. 

It takes a long while, the cab's almost at his house, before Eggsy finally calms down enough to realize what’s happening.  Merlin is in his _ear_ , Scottish bur comforting and coaxing, which means that the glasses are _active_.

Eggsy’s stomach drops because he’s not sure how long they’ve been _on_ or just what they’ve captured.

“H-How long?”  Eggsy rasps.  “How long you been there?”

There’s a pause and for a moment Eggsy fears the worse, fears that Merlin’s somehow seen everything, the entire affair in the pub.  Then Merlin sighs and it sounds as tired and worn thin as Eggsy feels.

“Just the cab ride lad.”  Merlin tells him.  “You must have pinged me by accident.”

Eggsy lets out a relieved sigh and then reaches up with the intention of cutting the feed to HQ back off.

“Eggsy, wait.  Please.”  The slightest hint of a plea in Merlin’s voice causes him to pause.  Eggsy curses himself for being weak but he can’t help it.  “Are you alright lad?”

For a second Eggsy thinks about brushing him off with a ‘ _fine guv’_ like he normally did every time Merlin asked him in the past.  He thinks about pretending this never happened, thinks about telling that half-truth he’s told a half a million times so as not to seem like a bother.

He thinks about it and then discards the idea.

Instead he decides to tell Merlin the truth because Eggsy doesn’t owe him that gentleness anymore, not after the way Merlin has betrayed his trust.  He doesn’t have to play nice and calm and collected, doesn’t have to pretend like he’s fine so Merlin doesn’t worry about him.

He doesn’t owe Merlin that consideration anymore.

He doesn’t owe any of them that consideration anymore.

“No, I’m not fine.”  Eggsy can’t help but laugh a bit as he says it despite the way the noise hurts his sensitive throat.  Plus, Eggsy admits to himself, he feels the slightest bit _spiteful_.  “But this ain’t a mission and I ain’t wounded.  Besides, it’s not like it was a bullet to the head or anything.”

This time when Eggsy reaches up to turn off the comms Merlin doesn’t try and stop him.

Eggsy pulls the glasses off of his face and tucks them into his jacket pocket.  He scrubs his hand over his face and forces himself to take another deep breath as he clenches his eyes closed.  He sits like that for a long moment until he feels the cab come to a stop.

He pays the tab and leaves the cabbie a hefty tip as he climbs out.  The cab pulls away a few seconds later and Eggsy’s left staring up at the pretty blue door of his new house.

The house he intends to make into a home for Daisy and himself.

The house he’d _hoped_ they’d be sharing with Michelle as well.

But that isn’t going to happen.

Not now.

Because Michelle’s chosen Dean over him and Daisy both.  Has chosen her abuser over her children and while Eggsy can’t _hate_ her for that he finds that he can’t _forgive_ her either.

Eggsy clenches his hand around the handle of the rainmaker.  He’d had the idea in the back of his mind before, had mulled it over once or twice, but he’d hoped that it would never be necessary.

But now Michelle’s made it necessary.

Daisy is technically his half-sister but Eggsy’s never seen her that way.

She’s always been his Daisy.

His lil’flower.

His princess.

His reason to be.

His … _daughter_.

Now it’s just time to make it official.  It looks as if he’ll be heading back to the manor a lot sooner than he’d hoped if he’s going to go about this the smart way.  And he _will_ go about it the smart way.

_Protect Daisy._

There’ll be plenty of time for that tomorrow though.  For now he’s got better things to do.

Eggsy takes another deep breath, squares his shoulders, wipes all traces of his panic attack from his face, and goes _home_.

And, as he swoops Daisy up in his arms and spins her around, Eggsy swears that he’ll be the father she deserves even if it _kills_ him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off like I said above I don't hate Michelle. The sad truth is that she's a victim of abuse, long term spousal abuse at that, and the reality of abuse is never pretty. Sometimes that reality includes individuals who stay with their abusers even when presented with a way out for a number of reasons. This doesn't mean that she's any less of a victim.
> 
> So thoughts/questions/concerns?
> 
> Feel free to tell me head-canons, to make requests of things you'd like to see or issues you'd like to be addressed. Can't guarantee I'll write them all in but you never know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys I've got a request. Please don't attack other reviewers in the comment section. Even if you don't agree with them that's not the kind of show we want to run here alright? This should be a safe place when it comes to that kind of thing. 
> 
> That issue aside as always your reviews give me life and I was seriously touched by the out pouring of support and personal stories I received. Seriously I'm fucking honored that you took the time to read this!
> 
> Fanmix --> http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

Ryan and Jamal have to go back to work the next day but Eggsy is determined not to put off what he knows he has to do.  The longer he waits the worse it’ll be in the end.  He’s learned that from experience.

Still the thought of going back to the manor, of walking into HQ and coming face to face with Merlin or Roxy or god forbid _Harry_ has him on edge, face flushed and shoulders tense.  He’s still so angry at all of them, so betrayed and hurt that when he lets himself think about it he can barely _breathe_.  He wants to rage at them, wants to tear them down and rip them open like they’d done to him.

 _And_ _yet_ …

Some soft, weak part of him yearns for the anger to disappear, for things to go back to the way they once were.  A part of him craves the return of the easy comradery that had grown between him and Roxy, for Merlin’s guiding and brusque sort of care.  For Harry’s hands, large and warm and _strong_ , on his shoulders or his waist.  For the splay of Harry’s fingers on the small of his back, pushing him forward or holding him in place, his touch acting as an anchor to reality for someone who’s spent most of their life adrift.

He longs for that, for all of it, but like with Michelle Eggsy’s not sure if he _can_ forgive them for what they’ve done.  Hell he’s not even sure if he _should_.

He forces himself to relax, to take deep breathes and concentrate on what’s more important than his comfort.

_Protect Daisy._

That fact in mind, Eggsy goes to pull on his freshly laundered button up and then slot weapon after weapon in place.  There’s no way in _hell_ he’ll go to the manor, or anywhere else really for that matter, unarmed.  Not again, not after everything he’s seen and done.  Now, regardless of whether or not he actually needs to be and despite how dangerous he is on his own, being armed to the teeth is some sort of twisted security blanket for Eggsy.

He will never be truly powerless again if he has his say.

So he shrugs on his shoulder holster, slots his pistols into place and then gets the rest of his kit on.  A small darling of a gun on his left ankle, the signet ring, two lighters, the watch, and various other bits and bobs that he’s particularly fond of including a thick but elegant thumb ring that hides a length of garrote wire.

By the time he pulls on his jacket he feels comfortable and almost calm.

Again he forgoes the cuff-links that practically call his name from their case and instead grabs a pair of bar shaped ones Dagonet had sent him.  To Eggsy’s delight they double as a set of tiny hidden blades.

He still looks a great deal like Harry when he’s done but by now Eggsy’s used to the twinge of pain that accompanies the similarities.  Well, used to it enough that he’s able to keep from shattering another mirror at least.

It’s short work after that to gather his Daisy up and put her in the little mock business suit he’d found while they were out shopping.  He’d been unable to resist buying the thing with its little vest and sweet tie when he’d seen it in the window of one of the boutiques they’d passed by.  She squirms a bit and paws at his hair when he leans down to rub their cheeks together but he’s left it loose and falling across his forehead anyways so he doesn’t care if she ruffles it.

“Looks at us princess.”  Eggsy turns Daisy around so they’re both facing the long mirror he’s hung on his bedroom wall across from the bed.  “A right matched pair we are.”

Daisy giggles at their reflections when Eggsy pulls a face at her and then turns to bury her face against his leg.  She’s still so shy sometimes, almost too shy in Eggsy’s opinion.  She doesn’t talk much really, says mainly his name and small words here and there.  Eggsy knows it’ll take a while before that wears off, before the damage that her time in the flat with Dean and Michelle has left her with completely fades.  It will take a while for her to be as he knows she can be on a regular basis, a bright, loud little bundle of joy that makes him light up inside like nothing else.

Finally ready Eggsy settles JB in the kitchen and grabs Daisy’s bag.  He slips the strap over his shoulder, clutches his rainmaker in one hand and Daisy’s hand in the other, and sets off.

~~~

Eggsy gets them a regular black cab for the trip to the shop but has the cabbie drop them off at the end of Savile Row so that Daisy can stretch her legs for a bit.

It’s a strange experience for Eggsy, walking down the Row.

People _smile_ at him and Daisy both.  Betas and omegas alike coo over her and him by equal turns, talk about how they cut a fine picture together, him and his _daughter_.  Other omegas bat their eyes at him from a distance until they get close enough to scent him properly.  Then it’s a toss-up between warm smiles and upturned noses once they realize he’s an omega with no mate-bond scent and a child in tow.

It’s the alphas that unsettle him the most though even if he isn’t really sure _why_.

First in training and then under the calm of the lull and caught up in missions he’d fallen out of the habit of using synth-scents to try and mask his omega scent unless absolutely necessary.  There’d been no one to hide from in the manor as everyone had known what he was by that first night, two days off his suppressors and omega scent strong.  On missions few cared about his orientation if he had a wire at their throat or a gun against their skull so Eggsy had done his job and not give it a second thought.

He hasn’t regretted that until right this moment.

The alphas he passes by shoot him admiring glances and smile at him whenever he makes eye contact.  None of them try to grab him, no one says anything rude or lewd like the alphas near the estate whom Eggsy had grown up dealing with.  Instead they shift out of his and Daisy’s path or tip their heads in his direction.

It’s simple and stupid really because no one else seems to find it significant but it makes Eggsy feel off balanced and _awkward_.

He bumps into an alpha, a tall broad shoulder man with a fine suit, who gives him a once over and a flirtatious grin.  “So sorry _,_ lovely.”  The alpha practically purrs.  He’s handsome enough in that cultured, businessman kind of way but the warmth in his eyes unsettles Eggsy deep down inside.

Caught on the edge of desperate for no reason at all Eggsy bares his teeth, scoops Daisy up, and strides away.

Eggsy’s not sure he likes what it says about who he is that curtesy and light flirtation from strangers is enough to unsettle him.

~~~

The front of the shop looms over Eggsy like the mouth of some sort of mythological beast, like the entrance to some Dante-esque hell-scape or something equally depressing and daunting.

Through the window Eggsy can easily see Dagonet inside the shop shuffling some of the fabric reams and tidying displays.  Eggsy watches him silently for a moment before Daisy begins to squirm in boredom at his side.

“Eggy.”  She whines up at him and Eggsy can’t help the smile that blooms over his face.

“Sorry lil’flower.”  He crouches down in front of her and straightens her little tie and vest.  “Need you to be good for me princess.  Can you do that?  Be good while we go see Merlin for a bit?”

“Lin!”  Daisy lights up at the mention of Merlin in a way that makes Eggsy’s heart clench sharply.  “Eggy, my Lin!”

“Yeah flower.”  Eggsy swallows past the lump in his throat so he can grin at her as he reaches out and pokes her lightly in the stomach just to hear her giggle.  “We’re going to see your Lin.”

The bell above the door chimes merrily when Eggsy pushes his way inside the shop, Daisy a bright and eager thing at his side. 

“Ah, young master Unwin.”  Dagonet turns and greets him, a small smile on his normally reserved face.  “And your young lady as well.”

“I’ve told you before guv’, call me Eggsy.”  He smiles slightly and then nudges Daisy forward a bit.  “And this gorgeous lil’flower is Daisy.”

“Oh yes I’ve heard of you as well.”  Dagonet crouches down in front of Daisy with a wide grin much to Eggsy’s surprise.  He’s always been nice to Eggsy, always polite and even friendly, but seeing him so open and cheerful is new.  “Our very own princess.  It’s a pleasure to meet you Lady Daisy.”

“Say hello flower.”  Eggsy urges her gently but she only turns to bury herself against the line of his leg instead.

“So shy.”  Dagonet muses as he regains his feet.  “It’ll fade in time don’t you worry.  Did in all four of mine and the missus’.”

“Four?”  The idea of Dagonet having kids has never really crossed his mind to be honest but now, looking at the man’s gentle smile, Eggsy can almost see it.

“Oh yes.”  Dagonet hums softly and when he looks back up at Eggsy there’s a gleam in his eye.  “All grown now and out making families of their own.  Left my mate and me with an empty house and too little to fill our time after so many years.  I dare say if you’re ever in need of a hand with the little love we’d be more than happy to help out.”

“I … that’s …”  Eggsy’s more than a bit speechless at the unexpected proposal.  No one’s ever come out and offered anything like that to him before, at least no one who he wasn’t paying or had grown up with that is.  Merlin doesn’t really count no matter how fond of him Daisy seems to be as that had been a part of Eggsy’s agreement to go out into the field.

“No need to decide right now.”  Dagonet smiles and Eggsy can see laughter in the crow’s feet beside his eyes, in the upwards turn of his mouth.  “You’ve plenty of time for all that in the future.  Although I do hope you’ll consider it, especially since we have an abundance of grandcubs around her age that she’d be free to play with.  Perhaps a playdate of some sort in the future so you can get comfortable with us?  The both of you.”

“Y-Yeah.  _Yes_.”  Eggsy swallows around the lump in his throat.  This is an unexpected kindness, this attempt to include him and Daisy both, this overture of friendship for both him and his lil’flower.  “I’ll pop round some time and we can set something up?”

“Here.”  Dagonet reaches into one of the pockets of his vest, pulls out a slim silver case and hands Eggsy a business card.  “I’ve got your numbers of course but here’s mine as well.  Just ring whenever you’re able and we’ll hash out a schedule of some sort.”

Eggsy’s almost afraid to take the thing from him for a long second he’s so taken aback but he finally reaches out and takes the thick card gently.

“Now run along young Eggsy.”  Dagonet shoos him away.  “I’m sure you and Lady Daisy have more pressing matters than humoring an old man.”

Unable to think of anything to say Eggsy just tucks the card carefully into the inner pocket of his jacket, gives Dagonet a small, careful smile, and turns towards the fitting room with Daisy at his side.

The entire elevator ride down to the shuttle platform goes by in a daze.

~~~

Dagonet’s kindness eats away at Eggsy’s earlier uneasy and keeps his nerves at bay for roughly the first half of the shuttle ride.  He plays slaps with Daisy for a bit and is half way through a simple hand game he’d picked up in the estates when his nerves begin to resurface.

By the time the shuttle stops at the manor he’s a wreck inside and out, his cheeks flushed and shoulders rock hard with tension.

He spends a too long moment fussing over Daisy’s clothes and smoothing her curls back off of her forehead as he forces himself to breathe evenly.

Gathering himself together and stepping off of the shuttle and onto the platform is harder than Eggsy had thought it would be.

_Protect Daisy._

But, like so many other things in his life, he does it anyways.

~~~

Daisy is a silent shadow at his side as they move through the manor.  Merlin’s not in his office, the bank of screens he normally sits in front of are blank and the mug of tea on the desk is ice cold.  Resigning himself to hunting the alpha down Eggsy takes off into the depths of the manor.  He knows he could ping the man, could use the glasses to get in contact with him easily enough, but he finds that he doesn’t want to.  Instead he prefers the idea of catching Merlin as off guard as possible.

It might be petty but Eggsy figures he’s entitled at this point. 

Eggsy runs into a hand full of people during his hunt for Merlin.  There are a few techs scattered about the halls, rushing to and from various parts of the manor.  He learns in passing that Roxy’s in Bolivia at the moment handling a smuggling ring.  It’s one of the cleaning staff, an older beta woman with kind eyes, who finally points him in the right direction.

Merlin’s apparently out on the grounds running the recruits through a daylight run of the rather extensive obstacle course Eggsy has admittedly fond memories of.  He also has the record for fastest solo completion time too unless it’s been broken in his absence.

Eggsy only hesitates a little bit before he turns, scoops Daisy up, and strides out towards the grounds.

He sees Merlin from a distance first.  The alpha is standing with his back to the manor with his clipboard obviously in hand as he shouts out acerbic comments to the panting and filthy recruits who are running the course.  There’s a large gaggle of them, easily twice the size of Eggsy’s own selection class, and they all look exhausted.

“Look alive Trevelyan.”  Merlin calls out suddenly.  “I’ve seen that course run in less than half your current time by someone with half your training and he didn’t feel the need to sabotage his teammates to come out ahead.  I’m _not_ impressed.”

In response Eggsy hears a groan and one of the recruits, all tall broad shoulders and thick blond hair, noticeably picks up his pace.  Their on the last leg of the obstacle course and Eggsy knows from experience that the best way to get through the thing is a combination of team work and sheer stubbornness.  He and Roxy had actually done rather well on both accounts when they’d run it together.

Eggsy sits Daisy down beside him and takes a moment to just watch.  A storm of anxiety is writhing in his gut so hard that he almost reaches for the lull, almost gives into the urge to hide behind its blanket of cold calm.

“ _My_ _Lin_!”  Daisy’s sudden and enthusiastic shout of her version of Merlin’s name completely shatters the idea in the next second.

Eggsy sees how Merlin’s shoulders go stiff for a second before he spins on his heel to face Eggsy and Daisy.  Merlin looks … _tired_ , worn out and spread too thin but Eggsy’s surprised at the warmth that immediately lights up Merlin’s face at the sight of Daisy.

“Daisy.”  There’s something infinitely fond on Merlin’s face as he looks at her, even with the way he seems unable to keep his eye from flicking back up to trace over Eggsy’s face every few seconds.  “Hello princess.”

“My Lin.”  Daisy tugs at Eggsy’s hand, tiny face blossomed in a bright smile as she pulls towards Merlin with surprising strength.

Eggsy thinks about refusing to let her go, thinks about making her stay beside him and refusing to let her go to Merlin like she so obviously wants to.  Like Merlin so obviously wants her to.  She’d be upset with him of course but Eggsy could still do it, could still keep the two apart if he really wanted to.

He thinks about it as he looks down at her bright smile and happy face.

Eggsy lets her go.

She’s off like a shot and Merlin catches her easily enough, swings her up and balances her on his hip like he’s done it a thousand times.  And, as far as Eggsy knows, he has.

He watches in silence as Daisy babbles at Merlin.  The alpha gives her his attention with a kind of patient calm that makes Eggsy feel just the slightest bit better about the months he’d left his lil’flower in Merlin’s care.

Finally though Daisy seems content to simply be held and Eggsy can’t bring himself to take her back when she’s obviously so content.

“Eggsy lad.”  Merlin takes a few steps forward to cover some of the remaining distance between them.  It’s only the fact that he has Daisy in his arms that stops Eggsy from retreating a bit.  “Wasn’t expecting you for another couple of days at least.”

“Yeah well,” Eggsy shrugs as nonchalant as possible, “needs must.”

“Are you alright?”  Merlin’s voice is soft and coaxing again, like Eggsy needs to be _gentled_.

The sound of it unexpectedly pisses Eggsy off.  He doesn’t need to be gentled, doesn’t need Merlin’s _pity_ or _guilt_ or whatever the _fuck_ it is that’s obviously eating at the man.  He doesn’t need it and he doesn’t want it.

“Not here about me.”  Eggsy cuts the line of questioning off sharply and instead nods towards Daisy.  He doesn’t have time at the moment to get into it with Merlin over what’s been done, over how badly he’s been betrayed and hurt.  He’s here for Daisy, here about her future, and that takes precedent over everything else.  “Here about _her_.”

Merlin’s brow arches high for a second before understanding dawns on his face.

“Ah.”  Merlin hums softly and then simply asks, “What do you need me to do?”

“Guardianship papers.”  Eggsy doesn’t so much whisper the words as he does breathe them out on the edge of a sigh.  “Wasn’t sure where else to go to make sure it gets done right.  Done smart.  She’s _mine_ and it needs to be fixed so no one can take her from me.”

Eggsy has to fight the urge to reach for the lull at the way finally saying the words out loud threatens to drown him in a sea of guilt and excitement.  Guilt because of the fact that by doing this he’ll be truly cutting ties with Michelle in a way that’s unshakable, and excitement because it finally feels like the _right_ thing to do.

For Daisy and maybe even for himself for once.

“Done.”  Merlin says instantly like it’s no big deal, like Eggsy’s asked him for something simple and casual and not to help him get legal custody of a _child_.

“You’re good bruv but you’re not that good.”  Eggsy can’t help but quip.  “You didn’t even touch that magic clipboard this time and I’m pretty sure you’re not an _actual_ fuckin wizard.  Gonna take more than wishin _real_ hard to get this done.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”  Merlin tsks at him.  “I put forth papers in your name _months_ ago lad.  Just been waiting on your say so to push them through.  And they will go through.”

“You takin the piss?”  Eggsy’s taken by surprise because he’s been imagining the worst, has been haunted by thoughts of long, drawn out court battles and all manner of horrors.  The idea that he and Daisy both won’t have to go through that is almost … liberating.

“It was simple enough.”  Merlin readjusts Daisy in his arms and doesn’t look the slightest bit perturbed even when she goes for his glasses.  “Kingsman has their fingers in a lot of pies Eggsy.  Even after everything that’s happened in the world lately that is one thing hasn’t really changed.  Besides moving guardianship is simple in the scheme of things when the right palms are waiting to be greased.”

“You’re terrifying, you know that right.  Glad you’re on our side.”  Eggsy says and Merlin chokes out a rough chuckle.  For a moment it’s comfortable between the two of them, it’s back to that give and take of sarcasm and good natured snark they’d shared for months.

“I am, you know.”  Merlin says quietly, almost solemn.

“What?”  Eggsy asks as he immediately feels the shift in the air.  He feels it like a touch down his spine when Merlin becomes determined to broach the subject Eggsy’s been ignoring in favor of what’s more important.

“On your side.”  Merlin steps towards him again until there’s only a foot or so of space between the two of them.

“ _Don’t_ , Merlin.”  Eggsy doesn’t like to admit that there’s more than a little bit of a plea laced in the words beneath the cold cut of his anger.  He doesn’t want to do this here, doesn’t want to do this in front of Daisy, doesn’t really want to do this at all to be honest.  As much as he hates the rage and agony that’s been haunting him for what seems like so long now he’s not sure he’s ready to hear Merlin’s excuses.  Not ready to hear his justifications or his apologies. 

“I know you’re angry lad, rightly so-” Merlin starts but Eggsy cuts him off sharply.

“You don’t know _nothing_.”  Eggsy doesn’t bother to smooth his words out, just concentrates on not screaming them, on keeping the growl itching at the back of his throat pushed down.  He doesn’t want Daisy to see or hear him like that, not if he can help it.  “You have no idea what’s like, how it _feels_.  You _lied_ to me.  All of you.  For _months_.  You let me-”

Eggsy cuts himself off and swallows down the words.  They taste bitter in the back of his mouth, like copper and ash, like blood and scorched faith.

“ _I followed orders_.”  Merlin sounds tired again but firm and Eggsy doesn’t miss the way he hugs Daisy just the slightest bit closer before he sets her on the ground.  “I know it doesn’t justify it.  I know it doesn’t make it right Eggsy.  I _know_.  But I did it anyways because it’s my _job_.  Because I saw the logic in it at the time.”

“What _logic_?”  Eggsy hisses, low and just a shade off dangerous as he holds a hand out towards Daisy and beckons her back to his side.  He feels flushed, like a line of heat’s slithered its way down his spine beneath the ice of his anger.  “What made that the right choice?”

“You didn’t see yourself out there.”  Merlin snaps.  “You barely ate, you barely slept.  The only time you seemed yourself was when you spoke to the wee one.  You were _killing_ yourself Eggsy and you just wouldn’t _stop_.  We thought it was best for you, not giving you that kind of news in the field but you just wouldn’t come _home_.”

It’s the same excuses Roxy had tried to hand him days before, the same bullshit as far as Eggsy’s concerned.  Alphas thinking they knew what was best, thinking they know how to _handle_ him.  It’s the same alpha-centric stupidity that’s ruled his life in one way or another for far too long.

“ _I would have stopped for him_.”  Eggsy roars, voice harsh and loud in the open air of the grounds as he reaches the end of his control for the moment.  “ _Goddamn_ you I would have come back for him.  All you had to do was say his _name_ and I would have come back."

"You shut me down _every time_ I brought him up!"  Merlin's shoulders are squared and his spine straight with tension.   _"Every time_ Eggsy.  You shut down the moment he was brought up."

" _I_   _was mourning."_  Eggsy throws the words out like a dagger, the truth in them as raw as the remembered agony that lingers around the words.  "I was sick to _death_ with grief of him.  I didn't want your reminders that he was _dead_ or your shit words about him being _proud_ or _fuck all._  I wanted him _back._  And he was back but you didn't _fucking tell me._  If you'd have just hinted about him being alive I would have come back you _fuckin’_ _pric-_ ”

Daisy whimpers at his side, her small hands clenched around the fabric of his pants.  The small frightened sound hits him hard and Eggsy snaps his mouth shut with a loud click.  Ignoring Merlin Eggsy gently pries her loose from his leg and then drops down onto his knees in front of her.

“Hey now flower.”  Eggsy croons at her, all traces of anger and hurt carefully erased from his voice.  The guilt eats at him though, the guilt over how quickly he’d let his anger get the best of him, of how quickly he’d went back on the idea of not letting her see or hear him upset.  He should have pulled at the fucking lull, should have tucked himself beneath it and surrounded himself with the calm.  But instead, like a _fucking idiot,_ he'd resisted the urge and now he's gone and scared his babe.  “None of that now.  Everything’s aces luv.  Sunshiny and good yeah?”

Daisy throws her arms around his neck and the way she clings to him makes his heart clench.  Eggsy pushes back up onto his feet, Daisy wrapped securely in his arms, and has to clench his jaw harshly at the look on Merlin’s face.

“This is hardly the right setting for this conversation.”  Merlin sighs and looks down for a moment to tap at his clipboard.  “The nursery’s still up and ready for her.  Abigail should be there by the time you get there.  Come to the Table room after you’ve got her settled.  There’s things that need to be discussed about your future at Kingsman and they can’t be put off any longer.”

Eggsy hesitates, torn between reluctant obedience and running.  The deciding factor is the knowledge that Kingsman is his one way to get what he’s always wanted.

A real, actual future for Daisy.

He gives Merlin a curt nod, turns on his heel, and begins to stride back towards the manor.

“Eggsy.”  Merlin calls after him and Eggsy pauses to look back over his shoulder.  “I regret it lad.”  Merlin’s voice and face are soft again.  “I _do._  If you don’t believe anything else just believe that.  We all regret it.”

Eggsy doesn’t answer, can’t answer at the moment.  Not with his lil’flower in his arms, not when he’s already upset her once.  It’s silent and still on the grounds around them, the sun warm and the soft breeze sweet in the air.  Just passed Merlin’s shoulders Eggsy can see the group of recruits.  They’ve all turned in his and Merlin’s direction and Eggsy can practically _smell_ their curiosity.

“I won’t let you be taken off guard like that again either, not if I can help it.”  Merlin seems to center himself forcefully.  “You should know that _Harry_ will be there.  As Arthur he has to be and what's more I think we both know that in this case he _wants_ to be.”

Eggsy’s _world_ skips a beat at this new, concrete mention of Harry, at the suddenly solid reality of seeing him again soon, but he doesn’t let it show.  Instead Eggsy turns back towards the manor and doesn’t look back again.

That doesn’t stop Merlin’s words from echoing loudly in his mind though.

 _Harry_.

 _Harry_.

 _Harry_.

Eggsy can't shake the alpha's name from his mind, hasn't been able to since the moment they met again outside that police station really.  It seems as if it has always been echoing on the outer rims of his thoughts since that moment, whispering to him like a sound heard at a distance.

Sometimes Eggsy wonders if he'll ever be able to escape it.  Sometimes he thinks about trying.  He thinks about running, about taking Daisy and hopping the train to Europe and just never coming back.  About maybe finding some sun drenched village where no one knows who or what he is and trying to build a life there.  But even then, even with that much distance between them, Eggsy's not sure if the _idea_ of Harry would ever let him go even if the man didn't care to chase him down.

He's almost certain it wouldn't to be honest, because it hadn't when he'd thought Harry was _dead_ and now that he's alive again Eggsy knows it'll only get worse.  It's like a sickness that's fed by his emotions, like some strange creature kept fat on his pain, his anger, his lov-

_Well._

Needless to say Eggsy thinks that, dead or alive, Harry's the one ghost that will _always_ haunt him.

Striding through the manor toward the nursery, the meeting looming above him like a guillotine, Eggsy finds in that moment that he’s torn between a desperate kind of longing and what feels suspiciously like _fear_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? So? Thoughts/questions/concerns/requests? We're moving it along now and we should have Harry in the next chapter so be prepared for that. Also thoughts on Eggsy's code name? I think I've well decided but I'd love to hear what you guys have to say about it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always you guys are fucking fantastic. Seriously your reviews and your feelings on Eggsy's codename blew me AWAY.
> 
>  
> 
> Fanmix --> http://8tracks.com/authorrbrochu/love-rs-under-fire

Abigail, the even tempered beta that Merlin had assigned to watch Daisy when she was in the manor, is waiting on Eggsy when he finally makes it to the nursery.

Small, quiet, and possessed of a deep love of children she’s like one of those people from a story book, all lace and delicate femininity.  Or maybe a video game since she’s also the deadliest person Eggsy has _ever_ seen with a pair of _tonfa_ who isn’t a full-fledged knight.

She’s also one of the reasons Eggsy had felt safe with leaving Daisy behind with Merlin for as long as he had.

Eggsy isn’t ashamed to admit that he … _dithers_ a bit when it comes to handing Daisy over to her so he can make his way to the Table room.  Finally though he gives his lil’flower a smile, presses a sweet kiss to her forehead, draws his composure together like some cheap version of the lull and leaves.

~~~

The walk to the Table room takes about five minutes from the nursery.

Eggsy stretches it out to ten from a combination of nerves and sheer bloody minded _spite_.

He’d had to wait _months_ for them to tell him anything, they can wait on him an extra five minutes.

His mind races and stalls in turns.  One moment he’s blank eyed and moving on auto pilot down the hallways and the next he’s replaying every moment from his and Merlin’s conversation in the yard at hyper-speed.

Finally though he’s standing outside the great mahogany doors of the Table room and trying not to remember the fact that the last time he stepped through them his entire world was basically _destroyed_.

It’s a futile effort though, trying to forget that, because it _haunts_ Eggsy like a phantom, the truth of just how easily the three of them had deceived him.  Of just how easy it had been for them to take that precious bit of trust he’d given to them and shatter it like so much glass.

His heart pounds, his breathing is erratic, and he can feel the earth begin to tilt beneath his feet the longer he stares at the door.  It’s familiar, those unsettling feelings, because Eggsy’s intimately aware of what the onset of a panic attack feels like now.

But he can’t give into that now, can’t curl up in the nearest compact space and rock his way through an episode.  He can’t tuck tail and run back to the nursery to grab Daisy and hide under the nearest bed or in the nearest closet.

He can’t do that, can’t be that _weak_.

Not here, not now, not where they will undoubtedly find him.

 _God_ he wants to but Eggsy knows better by now.  Knows that if he gives that weakness a piece of him it’ll take all that he has to offer.

He also knows, in a distant kind of way, that he’s not solid enough to deal with this.  The short confrontation with Merlin, the way he hadn’t been able to keep control of himself even with Daisy there, is proof enough of that.

His foundation, his moorings, are built on _sand_ at the moment and he needs to be solid, needs to be _bedrock_.  He needs to be unshakable, immovable, and impregnable.

So Eggsy does what he hasn’t done for days now.

He voluntarily reaches for the lull.

~~~

It takes him a moment, the lull _pulls_ like an overused muscle, all bone deep ache and discomfort like a poorly healed scar or a _bruise_.

It doesn’t settle the way it normally does, like an all-encompassing blanket of cold, calm rationality, but it settles enough that Eggsy can immediately feel the difference.

He feels _quieter_ , more in control of himself, like he’s watching the world from a distance and nothing can truly touch him.

Eggsy knows he would think it was _nice_ to feel that way again after so much upheaval if he still had the capacity to do so.

But he doesn’t at the moment so instead he straightens his tie, brushes his hands down the lapels of his suit and then straightens his cuffs with deliberate movements before he reaches out and knocks briskly on the door.

“Come.”  Harry’s voice calls from inside the room and Eggsy feels the echo of a twist in his gut at the sound, at the tangible reminder that _Harry_ _is_ _alive_.

He doesn’t dwell on it though, the calm of the lull prevents that even with how shaky his grasp on it seems to be.  So instead Eggsy opens the door, steps inside in one fluid movement, and closes it behind him.

His eyes automatically case the room, a second nature response that never leaves him now.  The first thing that comes to his attention is the fact that Harry is seated at the head of the table with Merlin to his left and a small stack of files on the table in front of them both.

The second thing that comes to his attention is the fact that all the other chairs that normally sit around the Table are _gone_.  All but the empty chair at Harry’s right.

 _Clever_ , Eggsy can’t help but think.  _Underhanded but still clever._

“Eggsy.”  Harry and Merlin both stand as one as Harry waves Eggsy further into the room.  “Come take a seat.”

Merlin’s mouth is pinched, his expression is sour and his are brows furrowed harshly as he alternates between glaring daggers at the side of Harry’s head and staring at Eggsy with what looks like concern.

Eggsy thinks he looks vaguely like a man waiting for a bomb to go off.

Eggsy’s going to do his best to disappoint him.

“Merlin.  Arthur.”  Eggsy dips his head in their direction and moves to take the chair even as he studiously avoids making direct eye contact.  Instead he stares just past Harry’s shoulder and only lets his attention linger on the embroidered gold Kingsman symbol on the alpha’s eyepatch for a moment before he deliberately flits it away again.

“We’ve a lot to discuss as I’m sure you’re aware.”  Harry starts off, voice low and warm as he shifts in his chair until he’s turned more towards Eggsy than the actual table.

The movement makes the air shift and Eggsy gets a whiff of his scent, of chocolate and brandy and thunderstorms.  Around him the lull shudders but holds against the onslaught of memories and sensations attached to that aroma.  Eggsy stays straight backed and rigid in his chair, hands folded one on top of the other on the table in front of him.

Eggsy can just barely hear the way Merlin scoffs under his breath and mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “that’s a fucking _understatement_ ” before Harry clears his throat and presses on.

“I want you to know, first off, that I’m _proud_ of you Eggsy.”  Harry tells him softly, almost intimately, as he reaches out and lays his hand on top of Eggsy’s own.

The move is unexpected and Eggsy makes the mistake of finally looking at Harry head on.  He’s smiling, a tiny curl of his mouth that’s far more sincere than the larger smile he’s seen Harry give in the past.  Eggsy barely tamps down a shudder at the words, at the touch and the soft look in Harry’s eye, and barely holds onto himself even with the calm of the lull.

Those words, that simple touch, would have meant the _world_ to him once.  Hell they still mean far more to him than he wants to admit even with the state he’s currently in.

Now though, the more rational part of him can’t help but wonder if they’re _real_.  Can’t help but question if they’re all just a carefully constructed _lie_ to get Eggsy right where Harry wants him to be instead of the truth.

It would be the _Harry_ thing to do Eggsy knows.  To set a trap and bait it oh so carefully to lure Eggsy in.  Eggsy’s seen him do it before, had listened to Harry talk him through the process during his training and then watched him do it to Valentine the night of his gala.

It wouldn’t take much for Harry to do it to him as well.  The thought turns Eggsy even colder inside.

“Thank you sir.”  Eggsy’s voice is even and perfectly calm as he carefully but pointedly slides his hands out from beneath Harry’s and white-knuckles the arms of his chair instead.

Harry doesn’t call him on it but Eggsy sees the frown that flitters across his face for a split second before Harry wipes it away.

“You handled the events of ‘ _V-Day’_ ,” Harry says the name like it’s something particularly foul, “with more skill and aplomb than many senior knights would have.  Not to mention the numerous operations and assignments Merlin sent you on in the direct aftermath.”

“Fourteen of them in all.”  Merlin cuts in then, tone brusque but with an underlying warmth.  “Eight assassinations, two kidnappings, and four data retrieval runs, three of which turned into complete clean-sweep, salt and burn affairs.  All successful I might add though with a rather _high_ level of self-risk involved.  _Uncomfortably_ high in some cases.”

Eggsy doesn’t try to protest the assessment because it’s an argument he used to have with Merlin during basically every video chat they had together.  Merlin had always seemed entirely too distressed over the way Eggsy had a habit of coming back beaten and bloody in one way or another after a mission.

Eggsy maintains that he’d had worse back at the flat growing up although he’d never gone into detail on that subject whenever Merlin tried to press.

“Needless to say that’s an impressive amount of field work for one in your position.  More than some knights have received during their first _year_ of service.”  Harry forges forward.  “As such, you’ve accumulated a rather large amount of downtime as a result.”

“Downtime sir?”  Eggsy asks carefully, more than a bit confused.  He catches the way Harry frowns again just a bit but mentally waves it way purposefully.  He’d thought the issue of his place in Kingsman was what this would be about first and foremost.  He hadn’t expected Harry to skip over that and move on to his mission performances or _downtime_ right off the bat.

“Around four months of downtime to be exact.”  Merlin cuts in as he stares at Eggsy narrow eyed for a moment.  His gaze tracks across Eggsy’s face and for a flash he can’t help but wonder if Merlin’s actually trying to see if he can find his fuse or a countdown clock.  Some kind of hint that’ll signal when exactly he’s going to _flip his shit_.  That or a reason for Eggsy’s cool façade.

“Hmm yes.”  Harry leans back into his seat like it’s a _throne_.  Which, if Eggsy’s being technical, he supposes it actually _is_.

“With all due respect,” which at this point isn’t really much in Eggsy’s opinion, “four months is a bit _excessive_ sir.”

And there’s that flash of a frown again.  Eggsy realizes in a jolt of clarity that Harry apparently doesn’t like it when Eggsy calls him 'sir' like he has been, all stiff formality and professional distance.  Eggsy immediately decides to do it as often as possible.

“Nonsense.”  Harry waves the protest away with an expressive hand.  “Every Kingsman is an asset as you know and as such they’re treated with a certain amount of care in many ways.  Knights are not typically deployed for as long as you were and do not typically serve so many assignments in such rapid succession.  Downtime between each is normally required and considered ideal.  Given the circumstances at the time that was one rule that was … stretched a bit.  Especially in your case.”

“And _what_ exactly,” Eggsy grits out as grips the edges of his chair so tight he swears he feels it begin to _crack_ just the slightest bit beneath the pressure of his hands, “would I do with this … downtime, sir?”

“You’ll settle in at home as well as here at the manor, set up your office, do your backlogged paperwork and the likes.”  Merlin’s staring at him closely still.  “I’d also like to call you to help me deal with the recruits and their training as having an extra pair of hands will help speed things along.  Beyond that and being expected to keep business hours here or at the shop your time will be your own.  If push comes to shove you may also be pulled for strictly domestic missions as well.”

 _Ah,_ Eggsy thinks with a sudden surge of understanding, _and there’s the bait and the hook beneath it._

Downtime between missions might truly be legitimate since it does make a great deal of sense as knights are too valuable to allow them to burn out quickly, but Eggsy sees the snare for what it is.

They mean to contain him in a way, to keep him within arm’s length by ensuring he’s at the manor on a regular basis, by making sure he can't run off and hide in some foreign country under the guise of taking another mission.  They mean to tempt him by the unspoken knowledge that he’ll have four months to settle in, four months in London, four months in his new house with no worries as to who’ll watch Daisy.

Four months, Eggsy knows, for them to work at making him _forgive_ them.

Eggsy isn’t sure that’ll be enough, isn’t sure what, if anything, might be enough.

“That’s nice and all.”  Eggsy’s face is deliberately calm, voice even and almost pleasant.  It successfully masks the blank calm he’s drowning in even with the way the lull sits rocky and uneven on his shoulders.  “Except it’s not as if I was a knight proper or anything of the sort.  Not going to be one either, not with the trials for all three spots already underway.  Don’t see how any of that applies to me then ... sir.”

Eggsy sees the way Merlin’s gaze immediately goes back to Harry’s face, sees the way his face goes dark and hard with a surprising amount of displeasure.  Harry looks calm beneath Merlin’s withering stare but he does shift just slightly in his chair.

“Ah yes.”  Harry reaches out and touches his fingertips to the thin black file on the table in front of him.  “That is, of course, one of the other reasons for this meeting.”

“I said you had a place here Eggsy.”  Merlin leans forward across the table then, face surprisingly earnest.  For a moment he looks as if he might reach out for Eggsy’s hand as Harry had earlier before he seems to catch himself.  “You’ve done too much for us, for everyone, for Kingsman itself, for us to let you go lad.”

“Indeed.”  Harry smiles at him again, just the slightest upturn of his lips.  “I wouldn’t hear of it either.  While it’s true that you didn’t pass the traditional knight’s test it’s out of the question to even _consider_ you not having a place here.”  

Even with the shaky hold he has on the lull, or perhaps because of it, Eggsy can’t completely suppress the half snarl that curls its way across his face at the mention of that _fucking_ _test_.  While he doesn’t regret what he did, a part of him will also never move completely passed the thing either.

“As such you’ve been assigned a different but no less important designation.”  Harry taps his fingers against that slim black folder in a short staccato burst of sound before he slides the thing across the table in Eggsy’s direction.

Eggsy flips it open slowly after only a second’s hesitation.  It’s a personnel file.  _His_ personnel file to be exact.  His picture, the same one that had been in his military file he knows, stares up at him, face fuller but eyes just as flat.  He skims over the information quickly as he’s been taught only to stall out on the line reading _designation_.

Eggsy blinks but the ink doesn’t change, doesn’t magically transform.  The word remains, the typeface slanted almost mockingly on the paper.  Almost as if it’s _laughing_ at him somehow.

“I would like to be the first to formally welcome you to Kingsman.”  Harry’s speaking but Eggsy hears him as if from a distance, like he’s underwater and everything’s muffled.  His attention is so firmly on the papers in front of him that only one word truly makes it through the barrier and it strikes him in the center of his heart.  “ _Excalibur_.”

In that moment Eggsy’s mind works differently, works simple like binary, in ones and zeros, linear in a way it normally isn’t.

 _Excalibur_ , he thinks, and the word is like the beginning of some fucked up equation that’s missing steps and variables and doesn’t make sense but it’s one that he still has to solve.

_If Eggsy equals Excalibur then solve for Eggsy._

Excalibur equals sword.

Sword equals weapon.

Weapon equals _thing_.

Thus Excalibur equals _thing_.

Thus _Eggsy_ equals _thing_.

Harry’s still talking in the background but Eggsy’s mind stalls in that moment.  He feels the lull shudder and flex around him, feels its calm comfort and serene quietness begin to slip through his fingers no matter how hard he grasps at it.

 _Not a knight_ , a part of him whispers.  It’s that same part that tells him where to hit a man to put him down, that same part of him that whispers the million and one ways he can kill the people around him as he walks down the street.

_Not a knight but a weapon, an object._

_Not a knight but a thing._

Eggsy is not a _thing_.

Not anymore.

Not _ever_ again.

Eggsy looks up then and catches Harry’s attention.  There must be something in his expression, something on his face, because Harry’s mouth clicks closed with a snap and his brow arches high in what Eggsy can tell is a combination of confusion and perhaps even concern.

“Eggsy,” Harry reaches out a hand towards him slowly and in the background Eggsy can hear the quickly bitten off noise Merlin makes in protest, “my dear boy are you alright?”

 “I’m not a thing.”  Eggsy whispers the words almost to himself.  Harry makes a confused sound low in his throat and it’s the final straw.

“I’m not a _thing_.”  Eggsy snarls and around him the lull shatters and _falls_.

~~~

He doesn’t remember getting to his feet but he does hear the way the chair clatters to the ground behind him with the force of his movements.

“I’m not a _thing_.”  Eggsy snarls it again, and the growl building up in his throat makes his words gravely and barely describable.  He isn’t sure who he’s talking to at the moment, himself or the two still in the room with him who’ve risen to their feet as well.

“Eggsy, lad.”  Merlin’s voice floats to him.  He sounds on edge, cautious and weary in that way he gets when Eggsy’s on mission and facing heavy resistance.  “ _Harry do something_.”

The sound only makes the artic rush of rage that’s swelling up over his head without the lull there to hold it back all the worse.

“ _I’m not a thing_.”  Eggsy roars as his bandaged fist slams down onto the table top.  There’s a loud cracking noise and Eggsy barely even registers the fact that he’s broken the fucking thing.  The stunned surprise on Merlin and Harry’s faces doesn’t even really get through to him.

“ _Eggsy_.”  Harry’s voice is strong, his name clipped out in that commanding tone that always made his knees go just the slightest bit weak in the past.  Now it just pulls him deeper beneath the swell of his rage.  “You’ve misunderstood Eggsy.  You need to calm down and let me explain it to you.”

Eggsy twitches, an aborted move forward, and instead digs his fist further into the table top.  He needs to _leave_ he knows.  There’s no time for Harry’s explanation, no time for yet another conversation about how Eggsy’s taken something the wrong way.  Especially since Harry hadn’t even attempted to address the elephant in the room that is his deception.  Eggsy just knows that he needs to leave before he _shivers_ and the icy bite of his rage wins out.  He needs to leave before his temper destroys _everything_.

He practically jumps back from the table, hands clenched at his sides, as he turns with the intention of heading for the door.  A large, hot hand clamps down on his shoulder and Eggsy doesn’t even think twice.

For an omega his fight/flight response has always been a bit skewed as he’s always favored the first over the second.  Now is no different.

He turns and _lashes out_.

Harry blocks the blow, eye wide in shock, but Eggsy doesn’t pause.  He’s too far down in his anger for that now.  He brings his other hand up to take advantage of Harry’s limited sight only to have it go wide when Harry ducks and moves into and under the blow until he’s standing just behind Eggsy’s shoulder.

Eggsy gives him no quarter, just spins around with a knee aimed at Harry’s ribs and this time the blow lands.  Harry lets out a small breath of air but moves with Eggsy anyways.  He flows around each of Eggsy’s blows seamlessly, weaves in and out of range with a cool kind of elegance given the limited space they have in the Table room.

Harry doesn’t attack back, he only defends.  It’s almost like one of their old sparring sessions where Harry would help him master new moves and combinations.  Only Eggsy’s better now than he was then, more vicious and deadly.

Anyone else but Harry or another knight would have fallen underneath his onslaught by now.

 _Betrayal_ , a small part of him whispers darkly when Harry takes a glancing blow to the shoulder in order to block Eggsy’s high kick to the face, _betrayal and hurt and lies_.

Eggsy bears his teeth in a snarl and lunges for Harry’s _throat_.

It happens in a flash after that.

One of Harry’s hands, large and hot and so very strong, catches Eggsy by the throat.  He’s pulled closer to Harry for a split second and then Eggsy’s being lifted, feet coming clear up off the ground.  His back slams down onto the table with enough force to knock the air out of him.

Harry’s on him before he can even _twitch_.  He pins Eggsy’s wrists to the table top with his hands and traps Eggsy’s legs between his own so that he can buck up off of the table but can’t actually get enough leverage to do anything meaningful.

Eggsy is well and truly restrained and no amount of teeth snapping or snarling is going to get him out.

“Calm _down_ Eggsy.”  Harry presses him further back against the table when Eggsy bucks up with a surge of strength.  “I said _calm_ _down_.”

 _Alpha_ , Eggsy’s hindbrain whimpers and coos traitorously at the show of strength, _alpha alpha alpha_.

“You’re not a _thing_.”  Harry growls at him, voice a dark, husky rumble that sends a jolt down Eggsy’s spine, as he leans down until he’s speaking directly into Eggsy’s ear.  “You … _Excalibur_ is not just a weapon Eggsy.  It’s _the_ weapon.”  Harry’s hands flex around Eggsy’s wrists and his voice is barely above a raspy whisper.  “Do you understand?  It’s _the_ weapon.  It’s the _king_ - _maker_ Eggsy.”

Eggsy finds himself going still beneath Harry.  He’s listening almost despite himself but he’s still tense, poised and ready to move if he gets the opportunity.

“Only the _righteous_ can wield it Eggsy.  Only the _worthy_.  Excalibur _chooses_ its king.”  There’s something dark and hot in Harry’s voice, in the warm puffs of his breath on Eggsy’s throat.  “It’s entirely singular Eggsy.  There’s nothing else in the world like it.  Like you.  Every Arthur has an Excalibur Eggsy but only the one.  _And I_ _want_ _you as mine_.”

The words, breathed hotly against the shell of Eggsy’s ear, jolt him back to reality and steal his breath all at the same time.  He’s panting by the time Harry pulls back far enough that they can look each other in the eyes.

For a long moment they stare up at each other in silence, bodies pressed together in a hot line, Harry’s hands like shackles around Eggsy’s wrists.  Their faces are close enough that their air mingles, close enough to …

Eggsy sucks in a sharp breath then as he looks at Harry for what feels like the first time.

Harry’s flushed, there’s a line of red across his cheeks and his hair’s fallen from its perfect coif to lay across his forehead.  His one visible eye is blown wide, pupil dilated until the warm chocolate is only the tiniest ring of color.

Eggsy knows he’s more than likely in even worse shape.

Harry is … _beautiful_.

Eggsy sucks in a breath that’s more sob than anything.

Harry is _alive_ and he’s so _beautiful_.

And Eggsy …

Eggsy still …

Staring up at Harry Eggsy finally allows himself to admit the truth he’s been avoiding since this whole thing started.

 _Eggsy still loves Harry so fucking much it hurts_.

Eggsy goes limp in Harry’s hold, sags down against the table trapped as he is between it and the hot line of Harry’s body.

Eggsy would burn himself alive, would destroy himself from the inside out to save the people he loves.  Despite everything, despite all the pain and the anguish and the _hurt_ Harry is one of those people.

Because Eggsy still _loves_ Harry.

And he finds that he almost _hates_ himself for it as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I dropped a Hannibal and a Mad Max reference of sorts as well as some gratuitous table slamming. Harry took a cheap shot by way of getting rid of the other chairs, Merlin's gonna worry himself extra bald, and Eggsy finally snaps a bit. Oh and all that downtime Eggsy now has bodes well for future shenanigans. All in all pretty successful chapter I'd say.
> 
> So? So? Thoughts/questions/concerns/requests? Anything you'd like to see happen?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Katie, the wind beneath my wings for this chapter.

Pressed down beneath the heavy, warm, _comforting_ weight of Harry’s body and flush with the realization that he still _loves_ him, Eggsy feels his mind begin to _tilt_.

Eggsy feels that inborn omegan instinct to seek protection from an alpha chitter to life in the back of his head.

Feels the way his throat itches, _aches_ , with the need to _whine_.

Feels the way his body, traitorous and undernourished and so goddamn _tired_ , yearns to lift and press, to curl into the heat and safety of Harry’s chest and never resurface.

He feels it all with brutal, cutting clarity and he knows he can’t allow it to have free reign over him.

Because there is no safety here.

Not anymore.

Maybe not ever again.

‘ _Maybe_ ’, a dark part of his mind can't help but hiss, _‘maybe there had never been safety here with these people in the first place.  Maybe it was all a lie.  Maybe that’s why it was so easy for them_.’

“Eggsy,” Harry voice is still a low murmur, still warm and firm but also gentle somehow.

Eggsy has spent _months_ yearning to hear it again outside of his nightmares but now he just wants it to _stop_.

It's tarnished now, the sense memory of Harry's voice.

 _Tainted_ by the hurt and betrayal they've all managed to deal to him.

“Eggsy,” Harry says his name again and his voice and the weight of his gaze is abruptly almost too much for Eggsy to bear.

Eggsy lets his eyes slip closed, tries to hide away from Harry’s eye, from how beautiful he looks hovering above him, large hands circling his wrists and face still flushed.

He’s _tired_.

Tired of grief and pain and never, _never_ being good enough for anyone.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of _losing_.

“Please,” Harry whispers and then he’s closer, his forehead pressed against Eggsy’s in an intimate, almost sweet gesture.  “Eggsy, dear boy, please look at me.”

Eggsy just clenches his eyes closed harder and does his best to _breathe_.

It’s harder than it should be, harder than it was even minutes before when he’d been half mad and trying for Harry’s throat.  His chest _hurts_ , his lungs feel as if they’re only working half properly.  Eggsy can feel the way his fingertips have begun to tingle as if the circulations been cut off despite the fact that Harry’s grip is firm but not overly tight.

There’s a bubble of some unnamed emotion welling up in his chest, something he feels as if he should recognize.  It’s not the familiar arctic rush of rage or the oft used calm serenity of the lull.

But it is familiar, like a song he knows but can’t quite place.

His mouth tastes like coconut and copper, metallic and gritty in a way that makes him nauseous.

His heart is racing in his chest

Eggsy clenches his eyes closed so tightly that starbursts appear.

His breath hitches in his chest, stutters, goes shallow.

“ _Harry_ ,” Merlin’s suddenly there in the next second, Eggsy can smell him, hear him, feel his heat against his side as he crowds close to where they’re still splayed across the table.

Abruptly and terrifyingly Eggsy can’t _breathe_.

“Harry get off of him,” Merlin barks out harshly but Eggsy hears the words as if they’re coming to him from down a long tunnel.

Harry’s heat and weight are gone then but Eggsy doesn’t focus on that, doesn’t even bother to open his eyes.

Instead his body curls in on itself, arms coming up to bracket his head as he huddles on top of the table.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Harry’s words barely even register but the harsh, angry tone cuts Eggsy to the quick.   _The alpha is upset_ a part of him chitters anxiously.  “What’s wrong with him?”

“Breathe lad,” Merlin’s hand is on his chest then, warm and large but careful not to press down.  Eggsy does his best to follow Merlin’s orders like he always does but finds that he _can’t_.  His chest feels too tight, feels like a stone’s been planted directly on the center of it and is slowly crushing him beneath its weight.  “Eggsy, lad, you need to _breathe_.  Come on now.  You can do it.”

Eggsy just keens, high and frightened in the back of his throat, because he can’t.

He _can’t_.

He can’t _breathe_.

He …

He …

 _He’s suffocating_.

Eggsy reaches out for the lull, for the over used and sore muscle that is the calm that’s gotten him through the past few months, the past few _years_ if he’s being honest.

He needs it now, needs that icy calm, that blank sort of numbness.  He needs its familiarity, its comfort.

He needs, in this moment, the ability to _not feel_.

A small, fragile and exhausted part of Eggsy is almost sure that he doesn’t want to feel ever again for the rest of his life.

So, desperate, Eggsy reaches for the lull as he’s become so accustomed to.

But ...

For the first time in his life it doesn’t answer to him, doesn’t provide him with even the pale shadow of itself like it had before.  Doesn’t yield even the shaky, crumbled imitation of serenity he’d clutched onto only minutes before.

Instead it slides through his fingers like sand, gritty and impossible to keep a hold of.

The lack of calm hits him like a blow, forces what small bits of air he’s managed to suck into his lungs right back out again.

His vision wavers, goes spotty at the edges.

Around him the world roars in his ears and it’s all too much, too strong, for him to stop any of it.

This time, when the black closes in around the edges, Eggsy doesn’t have the will or the strength to fight it this time.

All he can do is let it drag him down and under.

~~~

He wakes in a rush, his eyes snapping open as the world barrels back in on him all at once.  The bright white ceiling and the harsh florescents make him hiss in pain and clench them closed again for a second.

The world feels sharp, painful.  His senses are dial up, working in overdrive and so acute they’re almost agonizing.  His skin feels both too small for his body and like it _finally_ fits right all at the same time.

Those first few seconds of awareness are awash in agony as he adjusts.

He moves past the hurt quickly enough though, he’s _good_ at dealing with pain after all, and takes stock of himself.

He’s rested, his body is sleep sore but not overly pained.  The bed beneath him is soft but firm.  The blanket across his legs and waist feels almost oppressively heavy and the room smells sterile and cold in a way that makes his nose burn.

Awareness tickles the back of his mind, a sense memory he should be able to place, but it doesn’t fully form when he reaches for it.

All he can really focus on is the faint thrum of _unsafe unsafe unsafe_ that’s slowly getting louder and louder in the back of his mind.

The next thing he notices is the fact that he _can’t move_.

It takes more effort than it should to crane his neck enough to be able to look at his wrists.  The thick leather restraints he finds there are enough to make him snarl, loud and fierce and enraged.

His ankles are strapped down as well, the cuffs curtailing his movements when he tries to shift his legs against the sheets.

He takes a deep breath despite the way the room makes him want to sneeze and feels himself still as his mind filters through the scents that hang beneath the harsh cleanliness of the room.

Because, beneath that chemical burn, there’s something else, something soft and powder sweet that he instantly recognizes.

 _‘Cub’_ , his mind coos lovingly, _‘cub cub cub mine mine mine.’_

The scent’s older though, like it hasn’t been refreshed in a bit.  Like the cub came once and hasn’t returned.

And over it another scent makes itself known.

Brandy, chocolate, thunderstorms.  A scent so thick and rich and _delicious_ that he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

 _‘Alpha,’_ his hindbrain hisses, anger and longing mixed together so tightly that they’re almost indistinguishable from one another.

An alpha’s been near him while he was out and restrained.  Been close enough that his scent lingers on the blankets like a promise.

Or a _threat_.

He wasn’t alone either, that delicious smelling alpha, there’s the faintest wisp of others there too.  Two or three of them at least, their scents strong and intermixed, muddied enough that he can’t pick much about any of them out except that they’re _familiar_ somehow.

Recognition itches at the back of his mind but he shakes it off, doesn’t focus on the distraction it would provide.

There’s other, more pressing issues to be considered.  

Things like the cub, _his cub_ , the restraints and that throbbing bass heavy beat of _unsafe unsafe unsafe_.

He doesn’t like that, doesn’t like the idea of being vulnerable and tied down near so many alpha’s.

Doesn’t like that skittering, jagged feeling of being unsafe.

But, above all else, he doesn’t like the idea that they’d taken his cub from the room and hadn’t allowed her back.  Doesn’t like how her scent had been slightly sour around the edges, trimmed in salt and sadness in a way that makes his teeth _itch_.

 _‘Stolen,’_ his mind hisses, _‘lil’flower, cub cub cub, mine mine mine, stolen stolen stolen.’_

He feels the growl begin to build in his chest and throat.  The angry primal sound of it rumbles loud and heavy in the air around him as his mind latches onto that single thought and refuses to let it go.

Someone’s taken his cub and he intends to get her _back_.

Nothing is going to stop him until he has her back in his arms where she belongs, safe and sound.

_Protect the cub._

The restraints around his wrists give easily enough when he jerks his arms up sharply, the leather connecting the cuffs to the bed no match for his strength.  Beside him a machine begins to beep rapidly and loudly but a quick swipe of his hand sends it skittering into the wall with a crash and it abruptly goes silent.

His ankles take seconds to free and, like with his arms, he doesn’t bother to undo the cuffs themselves, just rips through the straps that connects them to the bed frame.

He takes a second to look around the room, eyes tracking over the machines and the thick, comfortable looking armchair that sits in the corner.  He can just hear the squeak of shoes on tile outside the door and he knows if he waits someone will come into the room.

He could stay quiet, could lay back down and pretend he’s still restrained, could use the opportunity to take them by surprise.

Instead he levers himself out of the bed and drops down onto the cold tile floor in a crouch.

This is not the time for subtlety and games.

This is the time for tooth and claw.

He has to get his cub back and he’ll go through any and everything that stands between him and her if he has to.

Including those alphas.

~~~

He slinks out of the room, bare feet silent and sure, and around the corner right before the feet he’s been hearing turn the opposite corner and enter the room he’s just left.

There’s a second of silence and then the sound of scrambling feet and the scent of nervous beta wafts down the hall as the door is flung wide open hard enough that it smacks the wall with a loud bang.

He doesn’t wait around after that, just turns back and takes off down the hall in a steady loping run, intent on finding his cub.

He remembers the temporary den he’d left her in before, has the sense memory of a room made out of softness and delicate curving lines, bright colored walls and cheerful music in the background.

That’s where he’ll start his search and if she isn’t there …

 _Well_.

Instinct tells him which turns to take and which doors to go through.

It isn’t until he’s halfway there that he encounters a problem.

He hears them before he sees them, scents them shortly after that.  Alphas and betas, a small pack of them as far as he can tell.  Their musk and the grass-oil-sweat stink of them is strong and loud to his senses and their voices are, somehow, even louder still.

He barely even pauses.

This is the only way to his cub’s den, to the soft, bright, place he’d last left her in.

He won’t be delayed or deterred.

Won’t be frightened off by a pack of alphas and betas who smell sweet and untested beneath everything else.

To him they smell like barely more than cubs themselves, fresh and unproven.  Potentially dangerous yes but not an actual threat.

At least, not to _him_.

They’ll either move or _he’ll go through them_.

He lopes around the corner, attention skittering over the pack and then past them to the corridor he needs to go down.

He makes it part way across the room before one of them tries to interfere.

“What’s this then?”  One of them steps forward and into his direct path.  He’s blond and broad shouldered and reeks of heavy alpha musk so badly it makes his nose crinkle and lips curl.

He doesn’t pay him any attention, just shifts to move around him.

Until, that is, the alpha reaches out and grabs him by the arm.

His first instinct is to hiss, low and sharp and threatening.  A clear warning sign to let go, to _back off_.

Because this might be an alpha but it’s not _his_ alpha.

“Trevelyan,” one of the others speaks up, voice uncertain, “I think you’d better let him go.”

“You’re such a _bore_ Pitcham,” the alpha, Trevelyan, snipes back with an eye roll before he turns back with a leer.  “Didn’t know they had _omega’s_ roaming about the place.  Merlin must have got us a present, even if he is a bit beat up with those scars of his.  Still, only good for one thing omegas.  I suppose a few scars don’t matter much for that.  Come on now love, what’s your name?”

He just snarls, vicious and loud, in response and jerks his arm free with strength that clearly surprises the alpha.  He goes to step around him again, intent on getting to his cub.

But, of course, the alpha can’t take no for an answer.

“That was rude,” Trevelyan grits out, a flush rising high on his cheeks.  “I don’t like it when omegas are rude.”

The alpha reaches out towards him again, fingers hooked and cruel looking.

It’s the work of seconds to grab that reaching arm, to settle on hand around that wrist and the other around the elbow.

It’s as easy as breathing to force that wrist down and that elbow _up up up_ until the sound of the bone breaking echoes loud and sick in the air around them.

The alpha _screams_ , surprisingly high and pained, and doesn’t even put up any resistance when he lifts a leg, plants his foot directly on his ribs and sends him flying.

The alpha hits the ground, curls in around his shattered arm, and doesn’t get back up.

Around him the hall is silent.

He takes one look at the now pale and shocked pack staring at him, snorts, and then turns on his heel and starts back towards his goal, the scent of their unease heavy in his nose.

 _Cubs, all of them_.

~~~

He slinks his way through the door and into the den.

There, tucked sweetly into the bedding, is his cub.

 _‘Lil’flower,’_ his mind whispers sweetly, lovinging, _‘precious cub, my cub, mine mine mine.’_

He’s at her side in the next second, hands careful as he reaches down and picks her up, tucks her warm weight against his chest and rubs his cheeks against her halo of curls, intent on getting a thicker layer of his scent on her.  The alpha stink from the room he’d woken up in is heavy here as well, whisps of it clinging to her skin, and he wants it _gone_ , wants it dampened and covered with his own.

She whimpers and stirs in his arms and he shushes her automatically with a wordless croon, body moving in half sway half rocking motion out of instinct.

She sighs and seems to settle back down but then her eyes blink open and she yawns, wide and sleepily, and tilts her head back until she’s staring up at him.

There’s a moment of silence as they stare at each other before she grins, bright and delighted, and reaches up to fist her tiny hands in his hair.

“ _Eggy_ ,” she squeals happily and the name makes that flicker of awareness from before resurface even stronger.

Before it can surface further though his attention is turned and then fully captured in another direction.  There’s the barely there sound of footsteps in the hall and the creeping scent of approaching alphas.

_Chocolate, brandy, thunderstorms._

_Wool, tea, gunpowder._

He feels his hackles rise, something in the back of his mind whispering of hurt and anger and _grief_ at the scents he knows are familiar but he just … _can’t place_.

He puts the cub down in the corner despite the way she tries to cling to him.  A low, stern bark of noise settles her down quickly enough and she tucks herself into a small ball behind him, thumb in her mouth and eyes wide.

He’s crouched and ready by the time the door swings open.

“ _Shit_ ,” one of the alpha’s, the one with one eye who smells of _chocolate-brandy-thunderstorms_ , sighs the curse out.

“I place the blame for all of this firmly on your idiotic head Harry,” _Wool-tea-gunpowder_ grits out, eyes darting around the room rapidly before they fix on the cub in the corner.  He stays by the door though, arms behind his back and feet planted shoulder width apart.

“As always Merlin,” the one eyed alpha, _Harry_ , says, “your opinion is both valued and noted.”

He watches the two of the with sharp eyes, body coiled taunt and ready to spring.  He has a cub to protect after all and these alpha’s make his head and his chest _ache_ with hurt and a low throbbing boom of distrust and grief.

When Harry takes a step forward, one hand raised in a beseeching motion, the roar that leaves his mouth is equal parts threat and challenge.  Either way it’s enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Eggsy,” Harry says softly, coaxingly, “you need to calm down.  Come back to us, to yourself.  Neither of us has any interest in hurting you or Miss Daisy.”

Again that trickle of awareness fights to surface from the depth of his mind but he pushes it down, shoves the possible distraction down and away ruthlessly.  There is only one thing that matters here, only one task that has any kind of importance.

 _Protect the cub_.

He snarls at the alpha again because the memory of hurt and betrayal and _grief_ is one of the only things he’s allowed to surface from the darkness of his mind and he _knows_ it somehow roots back around to _him_.  He holds those feelings close now, tucks them snug against his heart, because he _knows_ they will given him strength.

“Excellent strategy Harry,” Merlin intones dryly.  “I’m sure the _feral omega with a cub to protect_ will absolutely be able to be _reasoned_ with.  Especially as we’ve had such positive results with that tactic with Eggsy so far.”

“If you’ve a better idea then by all means speak up Merlin,” Harry maintains eye contact with him even as he talks to Merlin.

“As a matter of fact I do,” Merlin speaks up, “though I suggest you prepare yourself.  I’ve calibrated the dosage to a bit above average but I suspect it might still take a few seconds to take effect.”

Merlin’s hands come out from behind his back then and he sees the gun the alpha is holding.  There’s a split second of confusion on his part but he then registers it as a threat in the next breath.

“Sorry lad,” Merlin grimaces and then he fires.

He ducks beneath the first shot and rushes Harry, rage eating at his bone and throbbing in his skull alongside the need to _protect his cub_.

He barrels into the alpha at full speed, shoulders low and aimed for his gut as he makes contact.  Harry takes the impact with a grunt but doesn’t fall despite the way his feet skid against the carpeted floor.

The alpha grabs at him, tries to get his arms around him in a hold but can only suck in a sharp breath when he bursts out of his hold with a sharp twist.  He takes the opportunity to land a solid blow to his stomach and then to lunge forward and upwards, teeth aimed at his throat in a move that feels so familiar for some reason.

Harry dodges sharply and reaches out for him again, mouth pursed in a thin line and single eye narrowed.

He twists again, bats that hand away from him and sends his own arm snapping out to land a blow to the alpha’s cheek before he jumps back and out of reach.

His attention flicks between Harry and Merlin and for a split second he’s torn between staying between the alphas and his cub and going after Merlin and his weapon.

That second of hesitation is all it takes.

Merlin fires again.

This time he isn’t fast enough to dodge and he feels it when the dart hits him in the shoulder.

He roars again, fear and anger and that desperate drive to _protect_ flaring even higher as he lurches towards Merlin, body fighting the already creeping vines of the drug with everything it has.

He sees the way Merlin’s eyes widen in surprise as he turns towards him but he doesn’t pause again, just barrels forward, intent on his new target.

“ _Harry!_ ”  Merlin barks the word out as he jumps to the side and out of the way of his charge.  He’s not completely fast enough though and takes a blown to the shoulder that sends him flailing backwards and into the wall.

“I thought this would put him out?”  Harry’s there in the next second, forcing him back and away with a snarl of his own, alpha musky thick and heavy in the air around them.

“And I told you he’d fight it,” Merlin snarls back from where he’s circled around the two of them.  “Though I wasn’t expecting him to fight it this hard or for this long.”

He snaps his teeth in his direction and shakes his head sharply at the sudden onslaught of double vision.  His head feels thick and syrupy, his body heavier than it should be, than it was moment before.

He struggles, wavers, lashes out at Harry again only to feel his swing go wide.

His head spins, his gut clenches.

He sees Harry step closer to him, arms up as if to catch him, but he snarls weakly in his direction and stumbles back a step, back towards his cub.

He’s out before he ever hits the ground.

~~~

Eggsy wakes up slowly and the world is little more than a blurred, dim shape around him.  The room smells warm, like fresh cotton and sunlight, and the bed beneath him is thick and plush.  When he blinks his eyes back into focus the ceiling above him is done in a rich golden yellow that he isn’t familiar with.

What is familiar though is the small weight on his chest and the warm, sweet powder scent of his Daisy that hangs heavy in the air around him.

“Back with us now lad?”  Merlin’s soft burr jolts him out of his slight daze and Eggsy bites back a wince at the way his head _throbs_.

“Wh-What ‘appened?”  The words come out slurred and stuttered.  Eggsy has to clench his eyes closed at the way his entire body, right down to his _teeth_ , feels like one massive bruise that does nothing but _ache_.

“We fucked up is what happened,” Merlin sounds tired, weary and worn but absolutely certain with his words, “which seems to be par for the course by now unfortunately.”

Eggsy can’t help the small sneer that tugs at his mouth at the words as he manages to shift enough to look to his right.  Merlin’s there in a thick arm chair, clipboard on his lap and a ceramic mug sitting abandoned on the small stand beside him.

“You had a bit of a panic attack best I can guess.” Merlin continues softly.  “You passed out in the table room and we moved you down to medical.  You slept for almost two days but your vitals were steady so it was a bit of a waiting game.  Doctors made you comfortable as best they could and we took the little one back to the nursery after we let her visit for a bit.  Turns out that wasn’t such a good idea.”  Merlin’s grimace is wry.  “You woke up in a feral state, tore through the mansion in search of the little one.  Found you in the nursery and had to sedate you in the end, thus that pounding headache I’m sure you’ve got.”

There’s a long beat of silence.  The memories are murky, hazy, candy floss fragile and determined to slip between Eggsy’s fingers when he tries to reach for them.  He remembers being _angry_ , remembers determination and that fierce ache to _protect_ surging through his body like lightning.  The finer details beyond that are … sketchy.

“Want you to know that it’s not your fault lad,” Merlin finally sighs as he reaches up to rub at his temple.  “I told you, we fucked up, Harry and I.  Should’ve never separated you from the cub.  Should’ve never let the medical team restrain you even if you were thrashing about.  Should’ve known you wouldn’t feel safe.  Not after … well we should have known.”

Eggsy doesn’t say anything, just stares down at Daisy’s curls and stays silent.  Merlin’s right after all, they should have known better.  Even Eggsy, with all of his self-hate and doubt, knows that they should have never separate him from Daisy, should've never left him alone without her in a place he might no longer feel safe in.

Finally Eggsy grimaces as one particular foggy, half clouded memory struggles to the surface of his mind.

“I think …” he clears his throat as best he can, “I hurt someone?”

“Broke a recruit’s arm in two places,” Merlin confirms much to Eggsy’s horror.  “Little shit deserved it from what the surveillance footage showed and the others said.  I’ll make sure he pays for it some more too once his elbow has been set and settled and he’s back on the field.  Either way I’m pretty sure Trevelyan won’t be with us much longer.  He doesn’t have the … heart that we look for here.  Not like you do.”

“Merlin,” Eggsy sighs tiredly.  “ _Don’t_.”

“Alright lad,” Merlin caves surprisingly easy to the borderline plea.  “But I warn you, this is a conversations you can’t hide from forever.  I told you before that I wouldn’t let you get taken by surprise again if I could help it and I meant it.  So consider this a warning of sorts that we’ll have to revisit this soon enough.”

Eggsy just nods.  He’s too tired at the moment to summon up his rage towards Merlin, to bite and snarl his betrayal out at the other man like a part of him longs to.  He feels worn down, feels hollowed out and crumpled up in a way he hasn’t since the day Michelle had called and told him she was pregnant.

Normally he'd reach for the safety of then pull but the lull has already failed him once.  He knows that if he reaches for it now it’ll just crumble in his hands again.

The failure to grab that familiar source of security and strength isn’t something he can handle at the moment.

So all that’s left for him is exhaustion and a deep, aching kind of sadness.

“There’s something else we need to talk about lad,” Merlin sounds almost hesitant and more than a bit confused, surprisingly enough, when he speaks up again.

It’s enough to put Eggsy on alert, caution and suspicion immediately sharpening his senses and his mind despite his exhaustion and the sick pounding of his headache.

“It’s about your lab results,” Merlin hedges, uncharacteristically cautious.  “We did blood work while you were out the first time, standard tests just to be certain you hadn’t been poisoned or anything of the like.  The results were … _unusual_.”

“Am I sick?”  The question is all Eggsy can think to ask.  A nervous, cautious, Merlin dithering over his bloodwork doesn’t sound like the kind of thing that promises a happy surprise for Eggsy

If he’s sick then he needs to know.  Needs to know how bad it is, what can be done.  Needs to know if he should speed up his timetable when it comes to making sure Daisy’s cared for when he dies.  Needs to set things up for Jamal and Ryan too because they’re _his_ and just like Daisy he wants them cared for and safe when he’s gone.

“It’s nothing like that lad,” Merlin reassures him even as he stands.  One of his hands reaches out towards Daisy’s hair before Merlin seems to remember himself and stops the gesture halfway.  He drops his arm down by his side.  Eggsy pretends like he doesn’t see the way his fist clenches before it deliberately loosens.  “Nothing like what you’re thinking at least.  Just some … unusual readings and results.  Things we can’t ignore. Things I’m afraid that Harry will have to be here for.  He’s Arthur now and this … well this affects the both of you as you’re his … given your position in our ranks.”

Eggsy bites back the snarl at the reminder of what he’d been named.

 _Excalibur_.

The title still chaffs no matter what reasoning and justification Harry had tried to give to him.

It still feels like a betrayal of sorts.

It still _hurts_ to have been named a thing, an _object_ , instead of a knight.

To be the Excalibur to Harry’s Arthur instead of the Galahad Eggsy had once hoped to carry in his honor and memory.

“I’ll give you a while longer with the little one,” Merlin tells him as he tucks his clipboard beneath his arm and turns towards the door of the room.  “This is a private room in one of the secluded wings so you shouldn’t be disturbed at all.  There’s been strict orders sent out to give you space and let you rest.  Beyond that I’ll be back with Harry in the morning so we can talk about this.  I’ll make sure to notify you before we come down.”

Eggsy nods, eyes flitting up and then away from where Merlin’s standing by the door, before he focuses his attention back down on Daisy.

There’s another long beat of silence before Merlin clears his throat.

“I want you to know, lad,” Merlin says softly as he hovers by the door, free hand curled around the frame, “that the only reason Harry wasn’t sitting right there beside you when you woke up this time is because I threw his thick-skulled arse out the door and threatened to shoot out his other eye if he came back.”

Eggsy’s heart _clenches_ at the mention of Harry wanting to be at his side, of wanting to be there when he woke up.  He abruptly shies away from thoughts of him as best he can.

He’s too _tired_ right now to handle that especially.  To handle any of it.

Eggsy shuts his eyes and curls himself tighter around Daisy’s warm little body.

“He cares about you Eggsy,” Merlin continues.  “Even if he’s shit at showing it, even if all he, _we’ve_ , done is cock this entire thing up, he does care.  More than you know.  We all do lad, and we’re sorry for what we’ve done.  Saying it doesn’t fix this, we all know that.  And you don’t … well even if it’s a right shite apology, don’t doubt for a second that we’d take it back if we could.”

Eggsy doesn’t say anything, just focuses on Daisy’s even, steady breathes and does his best to ignore the tired prickling sensation in the backs of his eyes.

Merlin sighs again but he doesn’t say anything else.

The door swings softly shut behind him.

~~~

Eggsy drifts for a while, caught somewhere between sleep and awareness.

The bed is thick and comfortable, the room warm and calm around him.  Daisy is a welcome weight against his chest and side and the only thing missing is JB laid out over his feet.  If his pup was with him he could almost fool himself into believing he was tucked away safe and sound in his new house.

 _Almost_.

The lingering scent of Merlin and the faintest trace of _Harry_ he can still pick up in the room makes a lie of the thought.

That rich scent of chocolate, brandy, and thunderstorms that has haunted him from the moment he met the man again outside that police station.  The scent that had tormented and comforted him in equal turns for months as he half killed himself with a grief that _wasn’t necessary_.

A grief he's no longer sure he knows himself without.

For a long moment Eggsy revisits the idea of leaving the country for good.  Of packing his pups up and taking off.  Of finding some sundrenched village somewhere, some sleepy little place where no one knows his name or his history.  Somewhere gentle and safe to raise Daisy and to spend the rest of his days.

There’s enough money in his account now and Eggsy knows how to live frugally and smart enough that it’s a legitimate possibility for him.  He speaks half a dozen languages possibly by now and could get the papers necessary for whichever country he settled in easily enough.

In the end it’s just an idle thought though, Eggsy knows that.

He doesn’t _run_ , not unless he absolutely has to.  His fight/flight response just isn’t geared in that direction after all.  He learned that a long time ago.  Fight always comes first for him.

Plus he knows with a deep sort of certainty that Harry, Merlin, and Roxy would all come after him.

Each of them might have their own reasons for doing so but Eggsy knows they’d look for him and that they’re all good enough on their own to find him eventually.  And if they worked together it would all unravel that much faster.

One or all of them would find him as soon as he stopped moving if not before.

He hates himself just a little bit more for the way that, despite everything they’ve done and how they’ve hurt him so deeply, the thought is less of a warning and more of a _comfort._

Hates himself and that omega drive for home/comfort/pack that makes the idea appealing on a deep, primal level.

There are echoes in that truth, that instinct, that Eggsy doesn’t like.  Whispers of Michelle’s willingness to forgive and forget Dean’s trespasses time and time again.  The very thought is enough to makes his teeth itch and his stomach clench in equal parts anger and fear.

Despite his exhaustion Eggsy feels a certain sense of determination solidify in his chest.

He won’t become Michelle, won’t allow anyone else to become his Dean.

Not like that, not again.

So no, he won’t run, not unless he’s given absolutely no other choice.  He’s begun to build a real life for himself and for Daisy finally and he won’t give that up for anyone without a fight.

But he won’t forgive them so easily either.

And he’s not sure if he’ll _ever_ be able to trust them again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Solche wie Du und ich](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893889) by [irat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irat/pseuds/irat)




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